Issue 26, Winter 1990 (part 1)

Electronic OtherRealms #26
Winter, 1990
Part 1 of 8

Copyright 1990 by Chuq Von Rospach
All Rights Reserved.

OtherRealms may be distributed electronically only in the original form and with copyrights, credits and return addresses intact.

OtherRealms may be reproduced in printed form only for your personal use.

No part of OtherRealms may be reprinted or used in any other
publication without permission of the author.

All rights to material published in OtherRealms hereby revert to the author.

Table of Contents

Part 1
Editor's Notebook
Chuq Von Rospach

Part 2
Behind the Scenes: Redshift Rendezvous
John E. Stith

Part 3
Much Rejoicing
Dan'l Danehy-Oakes

Old Friends
Alan Wexelblat

Part 4
From Beyond the Edge: Reviews by our Readers

Part 5
Past Imagining: These are a few of my favorite things
Lawrence Watt-Evans

Scattered Gold
Charles de Lint

Part 6
The Agony Column
Rick Kleffel

Books and Magazines Received

Part 7
Words of Wizdom
Chuq Von Rospach

No Prisoners!
Laurie Sefton

OtherRealms Back Issues

Convention Notice: Volga-Con

Part 8
Your Turn:Letters to OtherRealms

Masthead: Important Information

Since last we spoke...

It has been an interesting few months. While I was in the final preparation of OtherRealms #25, the Bay Area had a little inconvenience, also known as The Quake. I thought then of doing a "Stop the Presses!" set of changes, but as I dug my office out from under the bookcases (books were two feet deep by the time the shaking was done and bookshelf fell over against the office door forcing me to go in through a window to get to the room [since re-arranged to keep it from happening again]) I realized that I wasn't ready to talk about it, so I moved forward with the last issue and decided I'd talk about it now.

It's now. Frankly, I'm still not able to talk about it. Being born and raised in California, you'd think I was used to earthquakes right now, but having the land on which you live do a good imitation of a dropped bowl of Jell-o can do things to your sense of security. We weren't hurt, nothing serious was damaged (the worst loss: my Tower of London mug I got during the trip to Conspiracy a few years ago. A great excuse to go back to England, if you ask me). We were without electricity for a while, but that's nothing.

So we got lucky and came out of it in fine shape. We tried to help others where we could, including multiple trips of material (including almost all of my teddy bear collection, which went to the Red Cross for the kids at the shelters) to the various agencies. It's amazing how much Stuff you can collect that you don't need without really knowing it (we found and donated nine different blankets, not including the ones we use and a couple we kept for visitors. Why did we have that many blankets? I've got no idea -- but they now belong to folks who can use them. And we have closet space again. But I find I really don't appreciate earthquakes that are large enough to throw things at me. It could be worse: it doesn't snow here (although this winter has been very cold! Brrr! But not like it's been elsewhere), we don't normally get tornadoes, hurricanes, thunderstorms and lightning or other major reminders that Mother Nature isn't one to fool with. You can prepare for quakes, and you can (mostly) protect yourself from quakes, and most of the time they won't happen. It's just that one time when your luck runs out....

The cover ties in with this. The top three seismograph readings are of the main quake from Oroville (near Sacramento), Pyramid lake (north of Los Angeles), and Lake Perris, near Riverside. The fourth is an aftershock picked up at a station in Los Banos. They were sent to Water Resources Department in Sacramento, where they were converted into Postscript by David Ackerman.

I don't like earthquakes. Not at all.

OtherRealms in the 90s

As I write, it's mid-January. I'm just finishing the editing and starting the layout of OtherRealms, so it looks like this issue will be somewhat late. Most of the problem is scheduling -- Between January 1 and February 15 the SFWA Nebula awards (which I administer) is in high gear and takes up much of my free time. I hope to have this issue done by the first week of February (as I speak, it's January 12). If not, it won't be done until the end of February, which will screw up the schedules for the next issue.

The other problem is more philosophical. There are some things that I just haven't liked about the last couple of issues, but I'm not entirely sure how to fix them. The layout has been dark and crowded (not in the least because there's been far too much material for the pages I could print, and I've been wedging it in) and the magazine just doesn't look 'right' (rhetorical question: define 'right'. I can't...). So I've been sitting and working on some alternative layouts that will make this a little easier to read and a little less static and boring -- and not really coming up with anything I like. So I'm wasting time puttering. I'll continue to do some more puttering during the layout, just to see if I can fix some of the major layout gripes I have, but it looks like OtherRealms is in transition (again) to some new layout.

I'm definitely making some changes in material, and I have been for some time, adding more feature material to help leaven the reviews. Eventually, I hope to have OtherRealms to be about 40% feature and 60% reviews, or maybe 50-50, because reviews are, when you get down to it, dry reading. A few people have noticed the shift towards more things like the Behind the Scenes section and essays and so far the feedback has been positive. I plan on continuing that trend in the next few issues -- I've got my first interview in a while scheduled and I'm trying to get permission to run a couple of others down the road. I'm also actively looking for authors who want to do Behind the Scenes pieces. I would even consider running (oh, no!) critical essays. Don't expect OtherRealms to become a bastion of literary criticism, but well-written criticism has a lot to teach and can be enjoyable to read as well.

The experiment last issue using a scanner to place art electronically generally worked very well, except for the cover, which washed out for some reason. I still don't know why Peggy's cover didn't reproduce well. It did during early draft prints, but I did something along the way that almost made it seem to go slightly out of focus. The wonders of electronics and desktop publishing. I'll keep working on it and eventually get it right.

I is a writur!

One of the things that has happened since last issue that I find most encouraging is that my writing, long on hiatus, has actually started again. I went through a dry spell thanks to a writer's block that settled in a few years ago for various reasons.

Writer's blocks are completely internal, psychosomatic events. Something in your head goes ping and you can't write. This one settled in about the time I got divorced in 1984 and just wouldn't go away. Why? I've got no clue, but it came in during the final death throes of my first marriage when my self-image was at an all-time low (which isn't a surprising state of mind for something like that). To a good degree, most of my positive/creative outlets (my needlepoint, for instance) also dried up.

Anyone who's been through this knows the frustration. Ideas float right on the edge of consciousness and disappear as soon as the keyboard comes into sight. Stories get started and trail off into nothingness. A nasty feedback cycle starts up. Being unable to write frustrates you, so you try harder, which increases the frustration. In my case, it got so bad that at times I was getting headaches, cramps in my hands and arms, all sorts of hassles whenever I tried to write.

Under that kind of attack (even if it's self-generated. Knowing that it's all in your head doesn't help; in fact, knowing that you're doing it to yourself just makes it worse) you eventually just give up. At least, mostly. I finally decided to stop brute force attempts to fight the block, and instead started looking for ways of convincing the block to go away. One step was encourage the forms of writing I could do (non-fiction and expository writing, like this), and I took steps to get myself writing on a schedule, which is one reason why OtherRealms exists -- I put myself in a position of either being able to produce readable material or publishing blank pages.

It worked. Thanks, in part to OtherRealms, in part to cooperative and encouraging friends, with a lot of help from Laurie (my second and final wife) and time, things slowly started breaking down. My fiction output from 1984 to 1988 was zero. In early 1989 I got one story finished and to the point where I wasn't embarrassed at the results. One morning in November I woke up and realized that the block was gone -- just like that. As far as I can tell, it died of neglect and boredom. At least, I hope so.

So, after all this time, my long on-hold novel is finally off the ground. With various commitments, I find I have time to work on it about two evenings a week (the rest of the time being used on OtherRealms, SFWA's Nebula Awards, real work and even occasionally reading a book or doing absolutely nothing (Gasp. What a concept). Which is about right -- at the rate it's coming together, it'll be done in about nine months, and that's not unreasonable.

Writing for fun and profit

The working title is Marowan, and it's a Fantasy. I'm no Gene Wolfe, but I also hope that I don't become a Piers Anthony, either. People who know me know I'm not the kind of person interested in 'literary' fiction. I grew up reading mind candy (a term I don't in the least consider pejorative) and that's the kind of material I'm writing -- I'm primarily interested in writing something that's entertaining and fun to read.

So it is with Marowan. I'm trying to take a slightly different look at the God/Human interaction. I started by asking the question "What if the gods did exist and what if they did come down and answer prayers and pleas and generally walk the earth. While I'm not specifically basing the world on Greek Mythology, there are a number of obvious similarities. The primary form of worship is asking the gods (very nicely, of course) to please go and help someone else. If you think about it, having gods come in and meddle with your life is more likely to create more problems than they solve (remember the ex-leper in Life of Brian?), and in many cases, the gods don't always give what you want, but what you ask for. Interesting times indeed (at least, they are to me. I hope my version is interesting to others when it's done).

What I find fascinating about all this is the actual process of writing. I find fiction writing to be very different from the technical writing and non-fiction I've written (which shouldn't be surprising, if you think about it. There's as much difference between soup and pastry chefs, even though both are cooking). I've experienced that special time when the characters actually come to life and start rewriting things and helping me figure how it's supposed to go. When I started, the working title was Castle Tarot. As I worked on the outline, I realized that the ideas I had about integrating the Tarot into the story just didn't click, so they went back into the idea file. A little while later, I realized there wasn't a castle any more, either, so I suddenly had a plot that had nothing to do with with my title, and essentially nothing to do with my original story idea.

About that time one of my bit players spoke up. I had a character named Marowan who was essentially nothing more than a convenient stomping ground for the gods -- back in the ancient days, he had so pissed off the gods that they made him immortal, for the express purpose of making sure that when the gods want someone to annoy, they'll have him. Which they do. As I worked on the story, though, Marowan pointed out that as he was written, he was a piece of cardboard that didn't fit the story, but only the whims of a sadistic author. It became obvious that he either needed to be cut or to be made more than a one-dimensional Wandering Jew type character. I did some more research, he made some more suggestions, and I ended up with one of the main characters that (even though I frankly don't know how the conflict will ultimately resolve itself) will be the key to everything.

Now, obviously Marowan isn't doing any real work here. I'm not hearing voices. But as I got into things, Marowan started coming to life to me and the character and story started going in ways other than what I expected--you're not so much writing the story as transcribing what is coming bubbling up from wherever these things bubble up from -- the feeling is one of synergy between author and story, where the story in some ways almost writers itself.

Synergy or not, however, I'll tell you this. Writing's hard work. After an evening working on Marowan, even if it's outline or background material, I'm exhausted. But it's a real kick, too. I hope it holds up to what I think its potential is.

Gene Wolfe? Delany? No. It's not going to set the literary world on its ear. But I do hope it brings a few evenings enjoyment when I'm done.

The Name Gremlin strikes again

Last issue, as I was talking about how I was going to squelch out the typos that have been hitting contributors names in the last few issues, the Name Gremlin reminded me it wasn't that simple. I got Peggy Ranson's name wrong again (in only one place this time). Worse, and much more embarrassing, I typoed Laurie's name, and she's my wife. That one will come back to haunt me.

The serious screwup, though, was that I somehow renamed one of my artists. The artwork attributed to Chris Priest in #25 really was drawn by Chris Friend, who was nice enough to point it out politely. He's been drawing for OtherRealms for a good while now, and I don't know why I suddenly changed his name. That sort of mistake is inexcusable.

This problem isn't unique to OtherRealms. Each issue of Locus has its corrections and apologies (in fact, the first time I made it into Locus, they got my name wrong. Perhaps I'm just taking it out on others? Nahh....) This doesn't make it right, and it doesn't mean it's something that shouldn't be fixed, but when you're dealing with 60,000+ words (as in issue #25) in a limited timeframe, things slip through the cracks. Every time I patch a crack, another seems to appear. It's frustrating to everyone involved. Typos in names is something only I can fix -- no proofreader in the world is going to know the names of the people who are writing and drawing for me. I'll keep trying.

And, for what it's worth, there is no truth to the rumor that a typo-free OtherRealms is a precursor to the coming of the Antichrist.....

Vacationing in Vegas

As I write this (thanks in no small part to a Macintosh Portable, Apple's new battery powered machine) I'm sitting in the Tropicana hotel, Las Vegas. Why would any sane person visit a place dedicated to making lots of money off of greed, sex and other human weaknesses? Sometimes I wonder, but the rooms are cheap, you can find some pretty good food and as long as you avoid giving away your money in the casinos, a good time can be had for little money. Cheap rooms or no, Las Vegas gets it in the end -- Big Spenders that we are, Laurie and I lost somewhere between $10 and $15 gambling while we were there. Gasp. (Interesting thing: in the last couple of years, both nickel and dime slots have become almost completely obsolete. A quarter is the minimum these days, which makes it hard to give away your pocket change....)

This year, we went and explored Red Rock Canyon, a protected area with some fascinating geology where limestone and sandstone met in a thrust zone many years ago and have been slowly eroding in the wind. There are some truly beautiful structures to view.

Not by accident, though, the options of things to do in Vegas are somewhat limited and oriented primarily at separating your money from you. Vegas hotels bring in the tourists with cheap rooms and travel packages, knowing full well they'll make it back (and much more) elsewhere -- in the casinos. There are few non-gambling attractions -- lots of cheap (and mostly average to mediocre) food to get you in the door, lots of shows (ranging from the Follies Bergere here at the Tropicana to Wayne Newton (Newton is himself a fascinating example of the artificiality of Las Vegas: A singer who hasn't cut an album or had a hit in years, yet plays to sell-out crowds here on The Strip, a self-generated phenomenon of success -- but only here).

Wandering around the casinos can be fun -- for a while. The primary color is red, which has been shown to raise blood pressure and increase aggressiveness. Red is good for business, gambling-wise. Different casinos work to attract different crowds, and after a while you can begin to tell what they're looking for. The only casino that doesn't drive us crazy is Caesar's Palace, which is quieter (better soundproofing and less background music) and more muted. They also have a larger security staff (at least, visible security) and are less tolerant of things like drunks and twits. Caesar's primarily attracts the high-rollers, so they aren't as interested in bringing in the street traffic.

Next door, however, is the new kid on the block, the Mirage. A new hotel/casino that recently opened, bringing the number of hotel rooms in the city to 67,000 (with another 8,000 due to open by the end of 1990, including another hotel/casino complex called Excalibur [with a motif that should thrill the SCAers in the audience -- the hotel is still being built, but looking at what they've finished already, only two words come to mind: ostentatious and kitsch]).

The Mirage is the new home of super-magicians Sigfried and Roy, another one of those only-in-Vegas style superstar acts. They're primarily known for doing magic with animals and are the keepers of a group of rare white tigers. The Mirage (owners of a tropical rainforest in the lobby with a carbon dioxide volcano erupting periodically -- the only place in Vegas with any humidity to speak of) knows a good thing when it sees it, so a special tiger compound has been constructed so that the wandering masses can come in and watch them (the first time we walked by, they were all sleeping, as any famous attraction will do; on the return trip, however, they'd awakened and two of them were busily creating new little white tigers, as a huge crowd stood by and watched. Some folks were complaining about the 'disgusting' display (although they didn't leave). Others were lifting up their kids to give them a better view. The tigers didn't care either way. It is nice to know that Sigfried, Roy and the Mirage management are helping to expand the population of an endangered species, but do they have to advertise it quite this way? On the other hand, would you want to go out and ask them to please stop offending the guests?)

The Mirage might be new, but I wasn't impressed. Noisy, crowded and, volcano notwithstanding, interchangeable with almost every other casino on the Strip. Disappointing, but it isn't every day you get to watch two tigers hump each other's brains out.

Only in Las Vegas....

While in Las Vegas, Laurie and I coined a new term -- the Dusty Movie. A Dusty Movie is one of those 'adult' flicks they show over the in-hotel entertainment network with all the 'good' stuff cut out. The end result are a bunch of out of phase scenes of two people who look exceptionally uncomfortable (if sex is so much fun, why do these people always look like they're in pain?) and a realization that there's absolutely no plot. Some of them are truly hilarious, but not intentionally so.

A few blatant plugs

I get a lot of press releases, review copies, letters, and other things all aimed at getting mentioned in OtherRealms. Sometimes it works -- review copies get read, for instance. Sometimes it doesn't. Occasionally I get something that I think ought to be mentioned but doesn't quite fit anywhere and I have to fake it.

I've got two of them this issue, and, surprisingly they're all blatant plugs for one thing or another.

First is Collier Books. There's been ongoing discussion in OtherRealms and in the circles I run around in about the problems we have finding the older classic and near-classic works of the field -- things go out of print very quickly these days and they tend to stay that way. Carroll & Graf has had a program in place for years to bring the deserving books back, and both Dan'l and I have reviews and raved over many of their offerings. Collier Books is now joining them with a new line called Collier Nucleus. They will be publishing four books a quarter and bringing back out of print books that don't deserve to be missing.

Their first set included Philip K Dick's Eye in the Sky, John Brunner's The Compleat Traveller in Black (a work I've been looking for for a couple of years, bless them) -- the first time the compleat work's been available in mass market form, Jack Williamson's Darker Than You Think and his collaboration with James Gunn, Star Bridge. This is an auspicious beginning, and it's a line I want to support as strongly as I can. SF's past is important to understanding it's present and future, and if you can't find the books, you can't learn about the field. There are many books that can stand up (and are decidedly better) than much of what's being published today, the only problem being that they aren't new. In this age of disposable, forgettable fiction, what Collier is doing (and what Carroll & Graf has been doing for a while) is something we need to support and encourage.

Second, a semi-book review. Being an book-person who enjoys reading about writing as much as writing itself, I was browsing through the hucksters room at Noreascon looking for various editions of Advent Press books (Advent Press publishes volumes of SF Criticism from the likes of Atheling/Blish, Damon Knight and the Panshins. If you can find their stuff, it's worth grabbing. But I digress) when I found a copy of Science Fiction Writer's Workshop-I by Barry Longyear. It's a book aimed specifically at beginning SF writers. Unlike many writers books it's written by someone in the field and written specifically for a workshop/seminar format -- Barry takes a first draft of one of his stories, rips it to little pieces and puts it back together in its final, published story, helping the reader figure out why the first version didn't sell and the second one did. There's more really hot technique instruction in this volume than in any writing book I've ever seen.

I've been running a Workshop on CompuServe for the last year, and since I found this book, I've been recommending it to everyone as an optional text book. It gets the ultimate compliment from me -- it's one of the few books (along with Strunk & White) that gets pulled down and browsed once in a while just to get a new perspective on it.

You won't find Science Fiction Writer's Workshop-I in bookstores, but you can get it from Owlswick Press, Box 8243, Philadelphia, PA 19101. It just went into its third printing and it's $9.50. If you are thinking of being a writer, you want this one.

Science Fiction in the 90s: Things I want to see happen

As we move into the 90s, a few questions and comments I'd like to see addressed in the 1990s.

o Paperback Returns: when will the industry realize that a distribution system that depends on giving full refunds on product that is destroyed instead of returned is stupid? It wastes a lot of trees, encourages sloppy buying and puts the burden of that sloppiness on the publisher, not on the buyer. It also creates horrendous accounting systems that confuse everyone, including the accountants.

On the other hand, the entire burden of risk shouldn't be shifted to the buyer from the publisher -- you can't do away with returns completely. A compromise, then, would be to make paperbacks 80% returnable instead of 100% to encourage people to not blindly over-order knowing they can't go wrong. And encourage buyers to buy non-returnable paperbacks by giving non-returnable purchases a better discount. The accountants will thank you, the authors will thank you, and the forests will definitely thank you. Waldenbooks might not thank you, but do you care?

o 15% agent fees: A trend in the 80s was agents going to a 15% commission. I have mixed feelings here. If an agent doubles my income, I shouldn't sweat the extra 5%. On the other hand, is the reason for the increase in commission because it's more expensive to do business? Or because agents have been unable to keep advances increasing along with inflation? Advances to beginning and mid-list authors have been flat for the last decade, so authors are getting the same number of dollars, but they're worth less -- and now the agent wants a bigger chunk of it. It seems to me that if the agent wants more income out of an author, he ought to be able to get the author more income, too, not take more away from him. (I'm oversimplifying, but an agent who wants more money shouldn't be taking it away from the author: he should be taking it away from the publisher and sharing it with the author).

o Real Estate: Does it really make sense for the book industry to continue to pay real estate prices for downtown Manhattan skyscrapers when they can't afford to pay decent wages to employees and authors? The janitors make more than the editors, and the editors make more than the authors (but barely). When I asked one editor how they survive in Manhattan on their salaries, I was told "roommates". Is this any way to attract the kind of people we need in the industry to make it thrive? Is there any inherent reason why a publisher can't move across the river to New Jersey and put the money currently going into floorspace overhead into paying people decent advances and salaries? New York Is Book Country, true, but isn't it possible to distribute more of the work into lower rent areas? Or telecommute? (I will admit a hidden agenda here -- I much prefer editing to writing, something I've found from working on OtherRealms, but not enough to be willing to move east. I want to freelance in some form for a publisher (copyediting, proofreading, whatever) but I'd really like to edit and acquire books. I can't do that here and I want that to change).

o Automation: Speaking of telecommuting, one hope I have for the 90s is that publishing will start to decentralize. It'll never lose its focus on New York (nor do I think is should) but a lot of tasks don't require you to live there -- many folks in various parts of the field (like copyediting and proofreading) already live elsewhere on a freelance basis, and some editors, like Beth Meacham at Tor, have relocated themselves, but this is a trend I think should be encouraged as much as possible. There are lots of good people who could benefit the industry that simply aren't in (or won't go to) New York.

Better use of technology can help keep costs down and improve quality. Electronic submission of manuscripts is one trend, reducing the time needed to typeset the text while at the same time saving money. Technology can help make books cheaper and faster.

o Sharecropping, proprietary universes and other bookish fads: The latest "imminent death of the publishing industry" according to some pundits is the shared world (like Thieves' World) or sharecropper universe (like Star Trek or Robot City). They have their advantages and disadvantages, allowing a newer writer to make a living while polishing his craft being one -- but also becoming a trap for someone who doesn't know when to break out on their own. Some worry they'll take away publishing slots from 'real' books. I believe, and I think the results of sharecropping to date shows this, that the good series will survive and the bad ones will die, just like good books will survive and bad books won't. There's a place for both, and a balance will be reached (probably about the time the next literary fad shows up). Same with the dreaded Generic Celtic Fantasy Trilogy (and trilogies in general). A fad on the fade, fortunately. Fewer people are writing three-book novels with a one-book story. There's still a place for a series, but only when there's enough story to warrant them. Too much padding turned off too many readers.

o Too many books: the 80s were the fight for shelf space. Going into the 90s, that continues. There's too many books, too much product going into too few spaces on the bookshelves. Result: books come and go before they have a chance to find their audience. By the time you know to look for it, it's gone.

The answer sounds simple, but it's not: I'd like to see the SF field shrink 10% -- 1200, 1500 books a year is too many. The author left in the cold is hurt, but fewer authors making better livings is, for the field in general, a good thing for everyone. It won't be without pain, but the current situation simply spreads the pain out further.

o Fantasy and SF are separate genres. So is Horror: SF and Fantasy are considered one genre because of an artifact of history. It's time to recognize that fact and do with Fantasy what is starting to be done with horror: recognize it as a separate genre and set it up as a separate shelving section, distribution and marketing genre. There's no practical reason to continue lumping Science Fiction and Fantasy together when the number of people who read both is really no more than the number that read SF and Mysteries, or Fantasy and Detective novels.

o Trade paperbacks: very few books warrant the trade paperback format (Marion Zimmer Bradley's Mists of Avalon comes to mind, as an example of a book that would have trouble becoming a mass market). Most readers I know don't see any advantage in buying a trade over a mass market: instead, they see it as a way that publishers try to convince someone who didn't want to pay $18 for the hardcover to pay $10 for a $5 paperback. There seems to be yet another attempt to convince people to buy trade paperbacks coming, and I think it'll succeed about as well as the last couple of attempts to convince people to buy them. Everyone can tell the difference between a hardcover and a paperback. A trade paperback is just a big paperback, and I just can't convince myself they're worth paying the extra money for. Most of the people I've talked to aren't convinced, either. Selling trade paperbacks is an uphill fight, and I'm not sure it's really worth it.

These are my hopes for the 90s. Some are possible, some maybe likely, and some are wishful thinking. The 1980s were, for the most part, good times for the SF field. Let's hope that continues into the next decade.

What would you want to see happen to the field in the next ten years?

------ End ------

Issue 26, Winter 1990 (part 2)

Electronic OtherRealms #26
Winter, 1990
Part 2 of 8

Copyright 1990 by Chuq Von Rospach
All Rights Reserved.

OtherRealms may be distributed electronically only in the original form and with copyrights, credits and return addresses intact.

OtherRealms may be reproduced in printed form only for your personal use.

No part of OtherRealms may be reprinted or used in any other
publication without permission of the author.

All rights to material published in OtherRealms hereby revert to the author.

Behind the Scenes: Redshift Rendezvous
John E. Stith
Copyright 1990 by John E. Stith

Suppose you saw a jogger run past you fast enough that her body was contracted in her direction of travel.

All right. You're imagining a significant change to our environment, so we can encounter relativistic effects at low speeds.

A jogger in this altered environment would find that as she runs fast, stationary observers she passes appear contracted in her direction of travel. Stationary clocks would be speeded up. Of course, those clocks wouldn't actually be fast; her internal clock would be slowed. Just like the traveling twin in the so-called twin paradox, she is moving through time more slowly than her sister who sits in a chair by the pool taking in the chlorine. If she runs fast enough, she can slow her internal clock to the point that she experiences only one second for every minute that her motionless sister ages. Looking at it another way, by running she slows her own aging process, so jogging really is good for her health.

The idea of relativistic effects happening at low speeds is the initial idea that led to the novel Redshift Rendezvous, due from Ace in June 1990.

One of the things the novel does is make relativity a personal experience rather than an abstract astronomical idea. This article talks about the evolution of the idea, the ripples it generated, the dead ends it led to, the expedient assumptions required, and the weak areas I haven't yet come to terms with.

My first totally arbitrary decision was to pick ten meters per second as the speed of light. To justify the speed of light being lowered, I presumed the existence of multiple layers of space, hyperspace, in which the speed of light decreases as one moves farther from layer zero, our familiar region of space-time. Table One shows the dimensions of the Redshift.

So that it would be useful to go into these other layers, I also assumed that distances between corresponding points in these higher layers would shrink by an even greater factor, so the light-speed distance between two corresponding points drops by a factor of two for each level farther from level zero. Hence, light-speed travel in layer ten is equivalent to 1024 times as fast as light-speed travel in our layer zero, even though ships move at not quite ten meters per second. Table Two shows the relative dimensions and speeds in each layer of hyperspace.

These assumptions about quantum layers of the universe are unjustified fabrication on my part, but at the same time they are probably going to be hard to unequivocally disprove for a few years (at least for someone with my education and inclination). Slow light in alternate hyperspace layers is the foundation for all the resulting ideas. Where I was unhampered by worrying about contradicting known facts or values, I've picked values that make the relativistic effects pronounced, in the same way that authors sometimes exaggerate trends or traits to look at a society skewed in one direction or another.

The hyperspace craft, the Redshift, resides in layer ten so it can cut travel time between widely spaced points. In layer ten, I've attempted to keep the rules of physics as we currently know them unchanged. The only alteration is to make the speed of light ten meters per second instead of 3x10^^8 meters per second.

I hope you'll agree this is a lot more exciting than, for instance, 3x10^^7.

As long as I assumed people in this future know enough to warp space so they can translate between hyperspace layers, I assumed they also know enough to warp space to simulate a mass large enough to create a comfortable gravitational field. As long as curved space causes gravity, why not eliminate the mass? For the Redshift itself, I picked a spherical shape like a miniature planet, with spherical levels for floors. That way, gravity pulls the inhabitants toward the center of the ship, unlike one conventional approach that uses spin to create centrifugal force in the opposite direction, (which wouldn't work for a sphere anyway). Figure One shows the configuration of the Redshift.

Immediately, the ten-meters-per-second velocity of light leads to an environment in which a runner sees the surroundings undergo relativistic contraction. Also, the clocks in the motionless frame of reference appear to run fast. By the way, for those readers who think the motionless clocks should be going slowly when observed by the runner, bear in mind that this environment is not the special relativity environment in which two unaccelerated observers pass one another. Since a gravitational field is present, and the runner is accelerated while running around the circumference of the ship, we are dealing with general relativity.

Okay. We're at the point where contraction and time dilation are justified. So is Doppler shift of light. The runner sees objects ahead of him shifted higher into the spectrum. He always measures light as having the same velocity, so the fact that the distance between him and approaching objects is decreasing shows up as increased energy in the light, hence higher frequency. Objects in his wake are similarly red shifted down the spectrum.

As I was growing more comfortable with the effects that stem from the original assumption, I remembered that light is deflected by warped space (large masses). In this environment, with light moving so slowly, that effect is enormously magnified.

On the Earth's surface, as in any gravitational field, light falls at the same rate as mass does. We don't think much about it because light speed is so high that the fall rate is negligible. Take two vertical face-to face mirrors and shine a light perpendicular to one of the surfaces. At the same time, throw a ball directly perpendicular to one of two face-to-face walls. The ball will bounce back and forth, falling under the accelerating force of the Earth's gravity. So will the light. The ball and the light, although traveling at much different horizontal speeds, will reach bottom at the same time.

Aboard the Redshift, the same is true. The only real difference is that since the light is traveling slowly, it falls in about the same arc that a fast-moving object would move.

Hence, light from a flashlight takes about the same path that water from a pressure hose would take.

Bending light is certain to cause more optical illusions than I have even thought of yet. At exactly the right distance from the central warped space, the speed of light matches orbital velocity, so the curved path that light takes when traveling around the circumference of the Redshift tricks the eye into thinking the light moves in a straight path on a level corridor.

Downstairs, inside that same radius, gravity makes light fall fast enough to cause different optical illusions. On level two, if you aim a flashlight at wall ten meters away, the light falls about half that distance on the way there. You have to point the flashlight higher than the spot you want to illuminate. Since light moves slower than orbital velocity, it falls to the floor. Light from the floor out of direct (straight) line of sight curves around the body of the ship, so the observer can see much more of the floor than would otherwise be visible. This means that the light reaching one's eyes horizontally comes-from the floor, and in turn this means that there is generated the illusion that the inner levels are bowls rather than the spheres they actually are.

I was busily drawing paths that light would take on the seven levels of the ship when I realized that with light dropping so fast, gravitational redshift would probably be easily observable. In fact, it's a major factor, especially on the lower levels. As light rises through a gravitational field, it loses energy, and hence lowers its frequency. The converse is true also.

So we've got bending light and gravitational red shift. The next ripple is -- why is the light bending? Because of gravity, of course. But that's not the precise answer. Warped space, which gives us gravitation, makes light bend because time slows down in gravitational fields.

In our part of the universe, the speed of light in vacuum is constant. But, as verified during eclipses, light from distant stars does indeed bend around the sun on its way to Earth. It curves either because one side of the wavefront is going slower than the other -- not acceptable because the speed of light is constant -- or because time is slowed on one side of the wavefront. If time is slowed, light is still moving at the constant speed of light; it's only an observer outside the field who thinks the speed has apparently decreased.

So gravitational fields slow down time. It's true here, and it's true on the Redshift. But when you plug c = 10 into the gravitational time-dilation equation, there's a huge influence generated by the pseudo-mass at the core of the Redshift. Therefore, the closer one gets to the center of the ship, the more slowly time progresses. Each level is its own time zone, as though, for instance, time progresses more slowly in Denver than in New York. But I'm getting into another theory entirely. Back to time zones. Not only does the rate of time passage depend on what level you're on, no matter where you are on the Redshift, time progresses more slowly at your feet than at your head (assuming you're standing). One side benefit of this is that you don't have to cut your toenails as often as your fingernails.

Let's look at some of the fringe areas this environment requires. For instance, if the speed of light is ten meters per second, what's the speed of sound? In fact, since at room temperature on Earth, air molecules move at several hundred meters per second, why doesn't the air on the Redshift freeze out?

As we start dealing with molecules and atoms, we start to enter the land between rigidly worked out implications and handwaving. I think that even if the idea development stopped here, the Redshift environment still makes an interesting thought experiment, and I liked the idea enough that I would have been willing to do even more handwaving if required, but there's an obvious attraction to having everything rationalized.

Let's look at molecules in air for a moment. Oh, humor me; pretend you can see them. On Earth, not only do they move faster than they are allowed to in the Redshift environment, but we've got problems with atoms as well. Atomic orbital electrons move around their nuclei at a big fraction of our normal speed of light. I've assumed (handwaved) that in the Redshift environment atomic particles are moving at almost the new speed of light, and hence are heavily mass shifted. This means electrons move more slowly in their orbits, (at larger radii) and it means chemical reactions will slow down. For convenience, I've assumed that however physical constants change from one layer to another, they will allow the weak and strong nuclear forces, and electromagnetic force, to maintain values appropriate to keep matter intact and inert.

This also means that most molecules move at almost the speed of light and are heavier than normal. This extra mass-shift-caused mass coupled with the slower motion results in the same total kinetic energy as the molecule would have here. And since the combined molecular kinetic energy determines temperature, the air doesn't turn into a freeze-dried mist.

The speed of sound depends on the average molecular speed in air, since sound is transmitted by those same molecules bumping into one another. On Earth, for oxygen, the speed of sound is about two-thirds of the average molecular speed. On the Redshift, if we assume the average molecule speed is nearly ten meters per second, that makes the speed of sound about six and two-thirds meters per second. Therefore, a person can run faster than the speed of sound and create sonic booms for people along the way. Here, anyone annoyed by joggers will be even more provoked. Plug this new speed of sound into normal Doppler equations for pitch changes, and you find that walking away from someone as you listen lowers the voice pitch you hear.

Lifebelts are one of the weakest elements in the environment, but vital, since a human being whose synapses are slowed to ten meters per second won't live (at least it certainly wouldn't be a comfortable and productive life). If the environment were unavoidably deadly to people, it would be deadly dull to the reader.

Lifebelts generate a field within which the speed of light is the familiar rate in this universe. To eliminate some of the magical quality of the lifebelts, I assume the speed of light in our universe is still an absolute maximum, so lifebelts are not capable of making light go even faster than we currently believe, but rather compensating for a characteristic in hyperspace layers other than layer zero.

Reflected light is another weak area. I assume that any person or equipment protected by a lifebelt field will reflect light normally. However, any unprotected surface consists of molecules whose electrons move so slowly in their orbits that they don't resonate at the frequencies required to absorb and then reradiate selected bands of reflected energy. Here I've taken the unjustified approach that, depending on the surface, light either bounces off those surfaces diffused but unaltered, or it is totally absorbed. Hence, unprotected surfaces can be seen in shades of gray.

Table One shows the dimensions of the Redshift, with the actual values used in and generated by the equations. I arbitrarily chose the central pseudo-mass and the dimensions of the levels to maximize the phenomena inherent in the idea. If I had made the ship much larger, then the gravity changes from level to level would be small, and hence so would the other changes, like time zone differences. Table Three shows the equations used.

The research for the Redshift was not without dead ends. One reader who saw an early draft raised the possibility that with the gravity differential of over four gees downstairs to less than one-fifth gee upstairs, all the air might fall to the bottom level. I worried at first, considering the possibility that level one might not be habitable, or that the levels would require pressure doors and independent ventilation systems.

Finally after some time spent looking at air pressure as a function of height, I realized that common sense could have saved me some trouble. (This is another universal law.) Air pressure in an open system such as the Earth's atmosphere merely amounts to the weight of the air above that point. In the Redshift, even if the four-gee gravity extended twenty meters from the floor of level one, that would still result in a column of air the equivalent of only eighty meters high in one gee. You will feel a pressure difference by rising eighty meters from the Earth's surface, but it's not an effect large enough to worry about.

I had an enjoyable time inventing the Redshift. It turned out to be more work that I had expected, but it also turned into an even more interesting environment than I thought it might. I've exposed some of the weaknesses of the environmental construction partly to say that I at least thought about them, and to provide a few starting points for those readers who enjoy either discovering loopholes or inventing patches for them.

I attempted to include most of the prominent relativistic effects, but the novel doesn't feature every possible effect. There are bound to be implications that haven't yet occurred to me. Discovering all the ramifications immediately would be a little like having someone involved in the early days of television anticipating an actor becoming president, or The Gong Show. If, for instance, the environment were expanded to encompass black-hole theory, one possibility to think about is the idea of black-hole wastebaskets. I imagine something that looks and acts a little like a black version of an electrostatic insect-zapper. If we can warp space to provide gravity for the ship, we can make tiny warps strong enough to trap any free material that comes within, say, a centimeter. One obstacle to overcome is to make sure the warp doesn't trap all the free air molecules. A way around that is to turn on the warp only when it's approached by something that passes the required tests to identify it as garbage.

Strange things happen aboard the Redshift. Although this base of hypotheses is large enough that I've had to pick convenient assumptions when offered a choice, I have made every effort to play fair with the established rules. I hope the result, Redshift Rendezvous, puts a little science back in science fiction, tickles the sense of wonder in a few minds, and makes at least some readers care about the characters as much as I do.

Table One Master Plan of the Redshift

        (Downstairs)                     (Upstairs)
Level:               1      2     3     4       5     6      7    Outside
Radius, floor (m)    5      7     9.8  13      16    19     23.5   27
Radius, ceiling (m)  6.8    9.5  12.3  15.5    18.5  23     26      Inf
Height of ceiling(m) 1.8    2.5   2.5   2.5    2.5    4      2.5    Inf
Gravity, floor (g)   4.62   2.36  1.2    .68    .45    .32    .21    .16
Gravity 1.5m up (g)  2.74   1.6    .91   .55    .38    .28    .18    .14
Gravity, ceiling(g)  2.5    1.28   .76   .48    .34    .22    .17    .00
Circumference (m)    1.4   44    61.6  81.7  100.5  119.4  147.6  169.6
Floor Area (m2)    314    616    1207  2124  3217   4536   6940   9161
Orbital velocity,
    1.5m up, m/s    13.2   11.5  10     8.8    8.1    7.4    6.7    6.3
Escape velocity,
    1.5m up, m/s    18.7   16.3  14.2  12.5   11.4   10.5    9.5    8.9
Rate of time, floor   .31    .38   .46   .53    .59    .63    .67    .7
Rate of time, ceiling .37    .46   .52   .58    .62    .67    .7    1
Rate of time/level   4       .57   .71   .87   1      1.1    1.17  1.26
Red shift %,
   floor to ceiling -18.4   -16.3 -10.9 -7.5  -5.6   -6.5   -3.1 -29.6
Elevators leading up  4       6     6    6     6     6       0
Stairwells leading up 0       8     8   16    16    16       0
Appearance         bowl    bowl  flat sphere sphere sphere   sphere
Uses   high-value-cargo   cargo   cargo  guest/galley/bridge guest/recreation bulky cargo cargo

Table Two Relative Speeds and Distances in Hyperspace Layers

Hyperspace    Speed      SOL    Dimension equivalents    Use for
layer       of light  Improvement    compared to       this layer
              (m/s)     factor        layer zero
0            3x10^^8      1           1.00            Normal Space
1         5.36x10^^7      2           0.08938
2         9.59x10^^6      4            .007989
3         1.71x10^^6      8          7.141x10^^-4
4         3.06x10^^5     16          6.383X10^^-5
5         5.48x10^^4     32          5.705x10^^-6
6         9790           64          5.100x10^^-7
7         1750          128          4.558x10^^-8
8          313          256          4.074x10^^-9
9           55.9        512          3.64x10^^-10
10          10.0       1024          3.26x10^^-11    Ship Travel
11           1.79      2048          2.91x10^^-12
12           0.32      4096          2.60x10^^-13
13           0.06      8192          2.32x10^^-14
14         1.0x10^^-2 16384          2.08x10^^-15
15         1.8x10^^-3 32768          1.86x10^^-16    High-speed comm net

By going one layer higher, the speed of light drops to .1787 (about 1/5.6) of current, and relative distances drop to .08938 (about 1/11.2) of current, so speed-of-light travel is twice as effective.

Table Three Fundamental Assumptions, Equations, and Constants

c = velocity of light on the Redshift = 10 meters per second Pseudo-Mass at center of ship = 1.7x10^^13 Kg Gravitational Constant (G) = 6.67x10^^-11 nt-m^^2/kg^^2 Gravity (in gees) = (G x Mass / Radius^^2) / 9.81 (Newtonian) Circumference = 2 x Pi x Radius Area = 4 x Pi x Radius^^2 Orbital Velocity = (G x Mass / Radius)^^5 (Newtonian) Escape Velocity = (2 x G x Mass / Radius)^^5 (Newtonian) Rate of time = 1 / (1 + (G x Mass / c^^2 x Radius)) Red shift % change = rate of time difference: floor to ceiling

Notes:

Dimensions are in meters. Masses are in Kilograms. Most of the above equations are easily available in many physics texts. The rate-of-time equation is derived from one in Gravitation and Spacetime by Hans C. Ohanian (W.W. Norton and Co., 1976):

dt(sub)2/dt(sub)1 = 1 + Gm/r(sub)1c(sub)2 - Gm/r(sub)2c(sub)2

by assuming r(sub)2 is infinite -- meaning a point infinitely far from the gravitational field, at which time progresses unslowed by gravitational fields. ------ End ------

Issue 26, Winter 1990 (part 3)

Electronic OtherRealms #26
Winter, 1990
Part # of 8

Copyright 1990 by Chuq Von Rospach
All Rights Reserved.

OtherRealms may be distributed electronically only in the original form and with copyrights, credits and return addresses intact.

OtherRealms may be reproduced in printed form only for your personal use.

No part of OtherRealms may be reprinted or used in any other
publication without permission of the author.

All rights to material published in OtherRealms hereby revert to the author.

Much Rejoicing
Dan'l Danehy-Oakes
Copyright 1990 by Dan'l Danehy-Oakes

More of the same

Yes, it's sequel time...We have sequels out the yingyang, this time.

Mundane fantasy

The Man From Mundania (Avon, 0-380-75289-1, $4.50) is a new Xanth book by Piers Anthony. Does anybody really need to know anything more than that?

Magic kid makes good read

I was going to say much the same about Orson Scott Card's Prentice Alvin, (Tor, 0-812-50212-4, $4.95) but it deserves more than that. So I'll say this: It's the new Alvin Maker book, and it's even better than Red Prophet. Alvin grows pretty much up. The Un-Maker is still after him. Card turns in the usual workmanlike prose. The story isn't over.

Ancient china makes fun setting

Fans of Bridge of Birds will be pleased to note that Number Ten Ox and his flawed Master Li are back. The sequel, The Story of the Stone (Bantam/ Spectra, 0-553-28278-6, $4.50) suffers the usual doldrums of sequels, if not as badly as some. Hughart, like most series writers, seems content to go on with what he's proved he can do instead of challenging himself to rise above his past successes. A pity, but in the meanwhile the story of how Master Li set out to save a village from the ghost of a sadistic Prince is not a bad story at all. Several good giggles and at least one bellylaugh.

Demipunk makes world change

Walter Jon Williams' Solip:System (Axolotl Press) is a literary orphan, a story that fell into the cracks between two novels. Williams' fierce Hardwired, which I raved about here some time ago, was followed by the dull Voice of the Whirlwind, set in a world that we were assured was the same a bit further on. Solip:System is about how the world got from Hardwired to Voice, and manages to alternate between dullness and fierceness. A minor character from Hardwired trashes the satellite-based corporations that rule Earth.

Runecarved sword makes endless epic

Yep, Elric's back. Fans of the "Two Moorcocks" theory have always wondered what to do with Elric, who falls somewhere in the gap between Moorcock's "literary" work and his "tossed-off" S&S novels.

The Fortress of the Pearl (Ace, 0-441-19123-1, $16.95) provides a final answer to that question. In it, Elric has pretty much the same adventure he's had over and over again -- he gets pushed into solving some mystical mystery, gets interested, gets involved with a woman, kills someone who probably doesn't deserve it, and goes away hating himself just a tiny bit more. Moorcock never actually bores, but I went away from this one wondering why I'd bothered. What to do with Elric? Kill him now.

Soldier makes freedman

In Gene Wolfe's Soldier of Arete (Tor), the mysteriously afflicted Latro (from Soldier of the Mist) finds his way to the Games and is manumitted by his owner. I thought it was brilliant, but I have a high tolerance for fine writing, deep significance, and all that lit'ry sort of thing. If you found Mist unreadable, you needn't bother with Arete. On the other upper extremity, if you liked Mist, you'll love Arete. (And you might find some clues to understanding all the Ancient Greek references in Jeremy Crampton's excellent fanzine, The Book of Gold).

Son of Tolkien makes history

I haven't reviewed any of the History of Middle-Earth volumes in this column before, though I read them faithfully. JRR Tolkien's son, Christopher, has been editing his working notes and drafts into a massive series that demonstrates the evolution of the ideas that became The Silmarillion, The Lord of the Rings, and several other works, mostly never completed. This series is not "good reads," but a fascinating glimpse into the creative process in one of the most powerful creative minds of this century.

The newest volume, The Treason of Isengard (Houghton Mifflin Co., 0-395-51562-9, $19.95), is the second of three projected volumes that jointly describe the evolution of The Lord of the Rings from its earliest conception as a lighthearted children's book, "the new Hobbit."

Treason deals with the period in which most of the ideas that make up tLotR took their final form: for example, at the end of the previous volume, Aragorn -- whom we all know as Strider, rightful King of Gondor -- was still a Hobbit called "Trotter," with wooden feet. By the end of Treason, he's very much the Man we all know and love.

Treason is probably the most accessible volume to the average reader, and it's fun to watch the pieces slowly, finally fall into place. This entire series is a must-read for anyone who wants to write fantasy novels.

Pseudonym makes mess

In one sense, Stephen King's The Dark Half (Viking) isn't a sequel, but in another, it's a sequel to The Dead Zone, Cujo, and almost everything he's written, especially as his "Richard Bachman" pseudonym.

It's rather disappointing, largely because it's a serious case of self-cannibalization, a sort of reverse version of Misery: A writer named Thad Beaumont has been writing a series of "trash" books for money (as opposed to his "serious" work) and has chosen to end it. Someone who objects to this does some nasty, violent things to force Beaumont to begin writing them again.

The primary difference from Misery is the use of the supernatural. The "someone" doing the nasty, violent things is not Beaumont's #1 fan, but George Stark, the pseudonym under which Beaumont had written the "trash" novels, come to life. Stark isn't pleased about being "dead." Frankly, I can't blame him.

And with that, we're finally out of the land of sequels.

Even the man who is pure at heart

Peter David's novel, Knight Life, amused me and helped me keep my sanity while I was recovering from surgery a few years ago. His newest, Howling Mad (Ace, 0-441-34663-4 $3.50), is a far funnier book.

The basic concept is that a wolf is bitten by a werewolf. From then on, he is doomed, every month, for the three nights of the full moon, to become... a human. Horror of horrors... He winds up in the Flushing Zoo, in New York, and then in a no-pets-allowed apartment, in love (or maybe lust) with a woman who names him Josh. Unfortunately, the werewolf that "made" him has plans to destroy him... abetted by a vampire from Fresno...

As I said, Howling Mad is a very, very funny book. There is one significant flaw it has in common with its predecessor: the ending. While the threads of the plot are wrapped up, good triumphs over evil, and the just are rewarded, something about the endings of both books seems... off, or perhaps unsatisfying. David supplies a possible answer himself: the narrator of Howling Mad is, like Peter David, a writer of comic books. This unnamed narrator worries, at one point, whether this has ruined his ability to do "real" writing.

Well, I don't think it has; but David has developed some habits from writing in a medium where the characters are always expected to have another adventure the following month. The ending of a comic book story, even a long and complex one, keeps a note of anticipation alive for the next issue. There is almost never a feeling of absolute closure, as at the end of a really satisfying novel. If David is planning a series, then this is not a serious detriment. However, I hope he doesn't. I'd rather see him stretch and grow.

Can turn to a wolf when the wolfbane blooms

I've raved more than twice about Carroll and Graf's series of paperback reprints. I'm pleased to observe that they now have some serious competition, Coller's Nucleus books, edited by James Frenkel.

One of their first offerings is Jack Williamson's Darker Than You Think (Collier/Nucleus, 0-02-038350-9, $4.95). It's sort-of a werewolf novel, though not exactly.

A young reporter, Will Barbee, comes to interview his old mentor; instead, he finds himself witnessing the man's death. A series of other mysterious deaths follows, intermingled with strange dreams. Our hero becomes convinced that he is causing the deaths while in a changed, nocturnal form given him by a mysterious woman, April Bell. As time runs out, he must face his own nature, and learn the identity of a dark messiah -- the Child of Night.

Chilling and involving.

Reality, reality, who's got the reality?

Nucleus has also reprinted one of Philip K. Dick's earliest books, Eye in the Sky (Collier/Nucleus, 0-02-031590-2, $4.50). This one is of vital importance to Dick fans, as it's the novel in which the classic "phildickian" mode of yanking reality out from under the characters, never to be fully replaced, first reached its full bloom. In this particular novel, the excuse for the goings-on is an implausible event at a cyclotron; the outcome is some excellent speculation on the natures of God, man, and the relationship between them.

For that matter...

Carroll & Graf are indeed still with us, and still reprinting the best SF of the vague period vaguely described as the "New Wave." Noteworthy among recent reprintings is Barry Malzberg's Beyond Apollo (Carroll & Graf, 0-88184-551-5, price), which details the mental disintegration of the only survivor of the first Venus expedition. Or maybe his mental reintegration; it's not a novel where the questions are all given definite and satisfying answers -- but the questions it asks are important and worth your while.

You mean it's not a sequel?

That's right, Isaac Asimov's new novel, Nemesis, (Doubleday/Foundation), is not a sequel to anything he's ever written before. That alone may be cause for much rejoicing.

Nemesis is Asimov's entry into the SF game of creating an astronomically-interesting solar system. He posits a plausible scenario for a red dwarf star (Nemesis, naturally) even closer to Earth than Alpha Centauri, and then does one-better by working out an equally plausible setting for a habitable planet orbiting it.

Unfortunately, the story is not up to the conception. Asimov's characters spend most of their time lecturing each other. This has always been a major element of the Asimovian plot, but in recent years the lectures have burgeoned to the point where characters are no longer characters, but shells containing ideas.

The plot, where it exists, is one of paranoid maneuverings. The discoverers of Nemesis keep it secret, in violation of every tenet of law and sanity, to colonize it for themselves -- even though they know that a red dwarf will almost certainly have no habitable planets. Then, to top it all off, Asimov violates every canon of plot sense with the introduction of a sentient colony of bacteria...

It is too much. The gorge becomes buoyant. Asimov can still write; even Fantastic Voyage II was tight and tense, and ended with a satisfying climax. Nemesis, I'm afraid, is not. Give it a miss.

Dead letter office

I sat there for an hour, not opening Grumbles From the Grave (Del Rey, 0-345-36246-2, $19.95). Not wanting to open it -- because I knew that it was the last, that after this there would never, ever be another all-new book by Robert A. Heinlein for me to read for the last time.

Finally, I opened it. Read it. Laughed a bit, cried a bit -- not at the contents, but at the feeling of saying goodbye that one last time -- weighed the gradually shrinking part in my right hand against the gradually growing part in my right hand.

I can't review this. Not really review it, which involves some degree of objectivity. My own subjective feelings about RAH, and the sad circumstances surrounding the publication of this book, defeat any attempt I might make.

Bluntly, then, Grumbles consists of letters Heinlein wrote on a number of subjects, mostly to John Campbell and his agent (Lurton Blassingame), and if you want to hear his voice one last time -- this is it.

Oh yeah?

But then, there's The Puppet Masters (Del Rey, 0-345-33014-5, $4.95). One thing mentioned in Grumbles was the imminent re-publication of a number of RAH's books in "unexpurgated" editions. In the cases of Red Planet and Podkayne of Mars, the changes are physically small but make a big difference to the author's intent; and this should be applauded by all who favor artistic integrity, whether or not they approve of Heinlein.

But The Puppet Masters is not a matter of piddling changes; the new edition has restored 20,000 words to the book. And mostly good words, too; they greatly develop the characters of Mary, Sam, and the Old Man, and the horror of the titans is greatly increased.

There are also some snipes at the Soviet Union, which I can't for the life of me figure out why they were deleted in 1951.

Overall, the plotting becomes tighter, not looser, with the added wordage. If you like Heinlein at all, go forth, buy, and peruse; this is the Master at the top of his form.

If you meet God on the road, kill him

Victor Koman's first novel, The Jehovah Contract (Avon, 0-380-70557-5, $3.50), has this in common with William Gibson and all his clones: it's set in a grim-n-gritty future and written in Hammettesque prose. Where it differs is in being a whole lot more fun. Gibson takes himself too seriously (and his clones don't have the talent) to be funny or rollicking.

Koman's concept is simple. An assassin-for-hire accepts the ultimate contract: Kill God. There's some very poor scholarship in here, or perhaps humor masquerading as scholarship; and some of the Goddess-oriented stuff that's taken the place of pseudocelticity on my Top Ten Things I Don't Want To See In Another Book This Decade Because I'm Bloody Well Sick Of Them. Still, it is fun, and well-written fun; the hero (and, even more, the heroine) are plausible; and it wrestles with the questions it raises honestly. Give it a try, unless you're a fundamentalist Christian. Hmmmm... Make that especially if you're a fundamentalist Christian.

Nonfiction corner

Got a couple of media books for you today.

The first is something each and every one of you will want to run out and buy the minute you hear about it... not because I recommend it, but because you just will. I know you. You sit there on your loathsome spotty behinds, reciting old John Cleese routines, and you don't give a tinker's damn for the book reviewer, do you, you excrement? So go out and buy yourself a copy of the two-volume work, Monty Python's Flying Circus: All the Words (Pantheon, 0-679-72647&8-0, $12.95 apiece) and you, too, can memorize the Dead Parrot Sketch.

The other is called Harlan Ellison's Watching (Underwood-Miller, 0-88733-067-3, $29.95). It's a collection of Ellison's various comments and columns on motion pictures over the years, from the sixties to his current column in F&SF. It's entertaining even when you haven't seen the movies he's discussing; it's fascinating when you have, because he really is watching, he sees things you never noticed and sends you back to the movies better able to love the good, hate the trash, and enjoy your popcorn.

Closet classic

Here's one more work of non-fiction, but I'd like you all to approach it for a moment as a work of science fiction. You may learn something.

Remember Richard Nixon? He used to be President of the United States; of late, it seems he's a urinal for every science fiction writer with a political agenda to pursue. So I decided to enter an alternate world and read RN (Warner, 0-446-93259-0 & 0-446-93260-4, $2.95), Nixon's own memoirs. It is indeed an alternate world, for most people; because it's one in which Nixon isn't judged and found guilty without a trial or hearing. To read a book like this will require that most of us suspend our ready-made beliefs and accept, if only for the time it takes to read it, the possibility that Nixon was, in fact, an honest and honorable man.

It's worth noting that Nixon doesn't deny that he did some things that might be strictly illegal. He claims, though, that -- from the perspective he had at the time -- what he did was what seemed best for the country primarily, and himself only secondarily.

So, yes, I think this can be viewed as an alternate-world story; at least, to the extent that consensus-reality has declared Nixon a crook and a criminal, this is an alternative. And it's one worth investigating; your mind may yet be broadened.

Go to.

Old Friends
Reviews by Alan Wexelblat
Copyright 1990 by Alan Wexelblat

OK--I admit it: I get lazy sometimes. It's just easier to pick up the latest book by a well-known author, especially when she's one of your favorites, than to hunt up more new blood. So this time we'll look at offerings from people you've heard me talk about before.

Borders of Infinity     [***+]
Lois McMaster Bujold
Baen, 1989, 0-671-69841-9

This is a 'neat' book--one where periodically you nod your head and think "that's neat." The book is a collection of three novellas, each telling a separate adventure of Bujold's Miles Vorkosigan character.

Miles, as readers of his past adventures know, is afflicted with a condition that makes his bones brittle. His adventures are largely mental ones; he can't solve problems by hitting them until they go away. Bujold works this to advantage, making the stories mysteries for the reader. We try to outguess Miles, to figure out the solutions as he does. His solutions are clever and enjoyable to watch: they are 'neat.' In addition, his solutions mirror his physical situation: people skills are more important than raw firepower.

Bujold clearly knows how to use the novella length to good advantage; the stories are not cramped nor stretched. We also get to see Miles at three different stages of his career and see how his talents develop as he matures. Borders of Infinity is well-written and a good introduction to this enjoyable character for those who've never met him before. Regular ANALOG readers should skip this one, though. All three stories have been published there and the connecting material is just a frame on which the novellas hang.

Frontera                [****]
Lewis Shiner
Baen, 1984, 0-671-55899-4

Shiner's new one isn't out yet, so I hunted up a copy of Frontera. It's a solid first novel, integrating themes from standard hard SF and cyberpunk.

The story is set in the near future, after the collapse of the major governments of Earth. The pieces are being picked up by various corporations in the US, Japan and even in Russia. One such corporation, Pulsystems, has taken over the remains of NASA. Using these resources, Pulsystems sends a mission to the supposedly desolate Frontera colony on Mars. When Earth abandoned its space program, those colony inhabitants who refused to evacuate were left to fend for themselves. They were expected to be dead, but now there are hints that some survived.

The Pulsystems crew consists of Kane, a corporate mercenary programmed in ways he doesn't understand, Takahashi, representative of the powerful Japanese arm of the mission, Lena, a doctor, and Reese, a guilt-ridden ex-astronaut who left Frontera in the evacuation. Each has come on the mission for different reasons and with different goals.

Shiner tells their stories mainly by extensive flashbacks, along the way filling in the reader on the undercurrents of the story. Unfortunately, this gives the first half of the book a disjointed feel. Once the characters are established on Mars the action picks up, winding toward a potentially devastating climax. I found it harder to put down the book as it went on.

The writing lacks the polish and flair of Deserted Cities, but it's a level above most first novels and worth the effort of tracking down a copy.

House of Shards [***+]
Walter John Williams
Tor, 1988, 0-812-55783-2

House of Shards is the second book in the Drake Maijstral trilogy, sequel to The Crown Jewels. This book doesn't require you to have read the first volume, but it makes more sense if you have.

This time Maijstral is up against Geoff Fu George--a higher-ranked, but possibly slipping, Allowed Burglar. They are in a race to steal the Eltdown Shard, a spectacular piece of jewelry. Robbing the other guests at Silverside Station along the way is only expected.

Williams again assembles a huge cast to participate in his farce. Unfortunately, he doesn't handle them as well as last time; I needed the first quarter of the book to sort things out. There is also a plethora of subplots as the two thieves steal everything in sight, including stealing from each other, and the minor characters get into their own interactions.

The humor suffers from the confusion brought on by the mass of characters and subplots. Shards is not nearly as funny as its predecessor. It's enjoyable and entertaining, but writing humor is hard and it's not Williams' forte. I don't recommend this book as an introduction to his work, but if you liked Crown Jewels this one is worth getting.

The Paladin     [***+]
C. J. Cherryh
Baen, 1988, 0-671-65417-9

I didn't think it was possible for Cherryh to write a slow-moving book. Her works usually carry such a high level of tension that even when the characters are not physically moving, the reader is carried along.

The Paladin, though, is a different sort of book. It is an intense, in-depth study of two characters: a gifted peasant girl bent on avenging her slaughtered village, and an aging swordmaster in exile from a corrupt court. In this book Cherryh destroys every cliche we have about these two almost-stereotypes. We are also made to wonder who 'the paladin' really is.

The plot starts out extremely simple: in a pseudo-medieval-Japanese world, Taizu escapes the massacre of her village and travels to find Shoka, the swordmaster. She convinces him to train her so she can get revenge on the evil lord who ordered the massacre. No matter what you think might happen next, Cherryh will surprise you as she shows you a war from a front-line soldier's point of view.

However, it takes over half the book to get there. Before then, we have lived with, slept with, eaten with, and trained with these characters for three years. It is, in places, repetitive and boring despite Cherryh's considerable wordsmithing talents. Long after the characters and their motivations were well established in my mind, Cherryh continued to emphasize their smallest actions and interactions at the expense of moving the plot forward. If you are not a Cherryh fan, or don't like character studies, skip this one.

Crystal Express [****+]
Bruce Sterling
Arkham House, 1989, 0-87054-158-7

It has been said that the cyberpunk writers excel at the short-story length. That's certainly true here. Crystal Express reprints twelve of Sterling's stories: five shaper/mech, three SF, and four fantasy. They range from the very strange "Twenty Evocations," to the ridiculous "The Beautiful and the Sublime." Also included are some haunting stories like "Flowers of Edo," which is the best techno-fantasy I've seen in a long time.

In each, the writing is tight and intense, with none of the fallings-off that have marred Sterling's novels. The variety of topics and story types means that there's something in the book for everyone. Fortunately, none of the stories depend on any others, so it's possible to read them in any order, enjoying the variety, skipping the ones you don't like.

I have two minor gripes with the book: one, there are no author's introductions. I enjoy hearing what authors have to say about their work in retrospect. I understand Sterling's feelings that the stories should speak for themselves, but nonetheless I would have liked to see something more. And two, the art is awful. I've met the artist, Rick Lieder, and I wish him no ill, but the cover would have stopped my buying the book if I weren't a Sterling fan. Don't let it stop you--this collection is as good an introduction to the author as you're going to find anywhere.

A Fire in the Sun       [***]
George Alec Effinger
Doubleday, 1989,0-385-26324-4

Another sequel, this one to When Gravity Fails. If you haven't read it, A Fire in the Sun will make little sense. If you liked the first book, prepare for a minor disappointment.

The book is not bad, but it suffers from middle-of-trilogy-ism. That's the disease that afflicts three-book stories where the first book is setup and the last is conclusion. In between, the characters have to be maneuvered into the right positions and the right minor characters and plot complications have to be introduced. That's what's going on here. Unfortunately, this sort of setup requires the characters to be stupider than they ought to. I was able to figure out most of the mysteries long before the protagonist.

A Fire in the Sun also suffers from a case of laugh-tracking. Effinger feels obliged to point out each joke and tell you how to react.

With that in mind, and the faith that Effinger can pull off a stunning climax when he wants, I'll be waiting patiently for the third book.

Patterns        [*****-]
Pat Cadigan
Ursus, 1989, 0-942681-07X

This collection is as hard to write about as it is to put down. Fourteen of Cadigan's best, including one new piece, totally defy categorization. There are enough aliens and strange creatures to qualify as SF, enough magic and strangeness to qualify as fantasy, and more than enough spine-stiffening scares to qualify as horror. Certainly no one will dispute Cadigan's right to be included in the cyberpunk camp when she wants.

It's cliche to say that the stories are about "people," though that's certainly true. Bruce Sterling, in the introduction, says they're about the patterns of contemporary reality, and that's also true. I think Cadigan is about the edges--the places where reality starts to fray and all kinds of unpleasant things get in. You know: the noises that make you jump, the articles you skip over in the newspaper, the reasons you have deadbolt locks on your doors. Not bedtime reading, except for the truly masochistic.

Even if you've read everything Cadigan's ever written before, the book is worth buying for the one new story alone. "The Power and the Passion" is Hugo/Nebula material, folks. Cadigan read the story at WorldCon and again at ArmadilloCon. Both times the awed expressions on the listeners' faces were mute testimony to how good she is.

And for the incurably curious, like me, Cadigan has included author's notes before each story. If you love uppity wimmin with attitudes, it doesn't get any better than this.

Tuf Voyaging    [***+]
George R. R. Martin
Baen, 1986, 0-671-65624-4

I've enjoyed Martin's work in television and with the Wildcards series. I also had the pleasure of taking a scriptwriting workshop from him, so when I chanced on Tuf Voyaging in the bookstore, I bought it to see what he was like in a solo effort.

If we're to believe the back-cover quotes, this is a funny book. What I found instead was a distinctly sad commentary on Earth's ecology, human population growth, and political short-sightedness and expediency.

The story revolves around the adventures of Haviland Tuf: how he comes to possess a still-functional seed-ship of the ancient Earth Ecological Corps and what he does with it. The EEC had mastered biological sciences: gene-splicing, cloning and plant growth, creating seed-ships capable of using these sciences to make or destroy a planet.

Tuf, a small-time interstellar trader, is faced with decisions on how to use this power. He begins as an uninvolved merchant, selling the ship's services to whoever will pay. However, circumstance and his personal ethics force him into situations in which he uses the ship's powers to make over whole eco- and social systems.

Martin writes well, but the action is a thin veneer over his social commentary. Taken on its own merits, this is a pretty good book, but I didn't find it funny.

------ End ------

Issue 26, Winter 1990 (part 4)

Electronic OtherRealms #26
Winter, 1990
Part 4 of 8

Copyright 1990 by Chuq Von Rospach
All Rights Reserved.

OtherRealms may be distributed electronically only in the original form and with copyrights, credits and return addresses intact.

OtherRealms may be reproduced in printed form only for your personal use.

No part of OtherRealms may be reprinted or used in any other
publication without permission of the author.

All rights to material published in OtherRealms hereby revert to the author.

From Beyond the Edge Reviews by our Readers

Ancient Images
Ramsey Campbell
Scribner's, 0-684-19081-8; 311pp, 1989; $18.95

The last novel that I enjoyed by this highly acclaimed British author was Obsession; much too long a wait. This has now been remedied with Ancient Images, a story that I feel could be his best book to date.

For some unknown reason, an old 1930's movie starring Boris Karloff and Bela Lugosi, Tower of Fear, has been suppressed and all known existing prints have been destroyed. However, Graham Nolan, a movie buff and film buyer for a British TV station, has managed to track down the only copy of Tower of Fear. Before he can view it, he is brutally murdered and the film again disappears. A friend of his, Sandy Allen, decides to try and solve the murder of Nolan and others who have come in contact with the film, hoping to find the missing movie. Her search takes her to Northern England where she begins by interviewing the surviving members of the production crew. This eventually leads Allen to the town of Redfield and the family who originally suppressed the films release. All this leads to one of the darkest climaxes in any of Campbell's books.

Ancient Images is one of those books where every word must be carefully read so as not to miss all the subtle horror that Campbell instills throughout the story. Ancient Images is an entertaining, highly innovative and original novel which grips the reader from the first grisly murder to the final confrontation between Allen and Lord Redfield. This is a novel that should not be missed.

--Richard Weilgosh

Ash Ock [****]
Christopher Hinz
St. Martin's, $18.95, 308pg.

This is the sequel to Liege Killer. This book is as good as the first book, but incomplete and with no proper ending. Instead the story stops just after two major revelations.

It is 56 years later. The paratwas are about to return. The humans are ready. However the paratwas know the humans know they are returning and have implemented a secret plan to undermine the human defense plans. A key human has been subverted by the Paratwas and is hindering the effort to resist the Paratwas. Nick and Gillian are revived secretly and are now operating in secret even from most of the Council of Irrya.

The plot mirrors that of the first book. There is a Paratwa killer operating secretly in the colony. Nick and Gillian have to find the killer and determine the reason for the killings. The story ends with the exposure of the Paratwa and the reason for the killings. Nick and Gillian break up and Aristotle returns. The return of Aristotle is expected. The first book made a big deal over the mysterious death of Aristotle and the fact his body was never found. This screams that Aristotle is still alive and will return. The book hints at who attempted to kill Aristotle and why he has remained hidden until now. Very little is resolved and the book abruptly ends with the exposure of the killer leaving lots of unanswered questions. Supposedly, the third book is the final book.

The situation at the end is quite intriguing. The humans appear to be doomed, but Aristotle seems to be on their side and strategic planning was Aristotle's specialty. The Paratwas have some reason for returning other than conquering. Gillian is in danger of becoming a Paratwa again.

The strengths of the book are a very well done plot and good characterization. All the clues as to what is happening are there for the reader, although some of it comes from being able to listen in on the paratwas, since the story is told from the omniscience viewpoint of the author. The plot convolutions are sufficiently complex that it is not obvious what is happening until just before the revelation by the author.

In the first book, Nick is the main character of the Paratwa hunting pair. This is Gillian's book. His character is developed better and undergoes logical changes as a result of what happened in the prequel. One other character is carried over from Liege Killer, Jerem Marth. He is now the Lion of the Alexanders. Hinz does a very good job of transforming Jerem into an old man while retaining the character of the twelve year old boy from the prequel.

Despite the cliffhanger ending this book is one of those rare sequels that equals its predecessor.

--Danny Low

Bimbos of the Death Sun
Sharyn McCrumb
TSR, 1988, 0-88038-455-7, 228pp., $3.95

Some instant classics disappear from the racks almost as fast as they are printed. Fortunately, TSR has had the good sense to reprint Bimbos for the further edification of fen everywhere. You'll still have to look for it on the mystery racks where it was an Edgar Award winner, for it's yet another murder at a SF convention, and the punctured characters aren't all entirely fictional.

Neopro Dr. James Owens Mega, author of the hard SF novel that lends its name to this story, embarks upon his first con at the urging of his significant other. Marion Farley, tenure-seeking professor of literature and/or science fiction, pushes her lover into the fray of fen and filk to promote his first book, but they both find the paths crossed at Rubicon more than they expected.

As his nom de plume, Jay Omega, the engineering prof threads his way through filkers, gamers, Big Name Fans, visiting Scottish troubadours, costumers, SCA sword swingers, a runty egotistical BNP, a Trekkie wedding, and the odd assassination. Miles Perry, the con chairman, does his best to juggle the demands of the masses vs. the "feed me" tantrums of the GOH, author of the 28 book Tratyn Runewind series, Appin Dungannon. Brenda Lindenfeld, whose appetites overflow both costume and bed, searches for her perfect soulmate, while Clifford Morgan struts his stuff into fan history.

When one of this merrie band falls victim to excessive zeal, police Lt. Ayhan keeps muttering "I love this case," as his own band of magicians work the halls. Then Omega takes role playing a little too seriously, and ups the body count, while the Concom vows to carry on.

When names like Isaac Asimov and Fredric Brown have tilled this soil before, what new harvest has McCrumb reaped? For one, her jabs at fans and pros alike are tempered with understanding, keen insight, and tolerant charity. For another, this is the best introduction to SF cons anyone could receive. If any of these terms puzzle you, you need this book; even if they don't, you'll enjoy it.

--Dean R. Lambe

The Complete ElfQuest: [****]
#5: Siege at Blue Mountain
#6: The Secret of Two-Edge
Wendy and Richard Pini

The good news is, the latest ElfQuest collection is out. The bad news is, these collections aren't quite as good as the first ones. My vote for the best fantasy series of the decade goes to Wendy and Richard Pini's ElfQuest series. The most recent adaptation is The Complete ElfQuest, published by Father Tree Press, which collects the two series of comics books. The first four books were also published several years ago by Donning/Starblaze. Both collections added color to the black-and-white comics. The stories deal with a group of elves searching for a safe home. Unlike the lofty, ethereal beings from Tolkein, these elves are earthy creatures with human desires, foibles, and personalities. Characterization is strong in ElfQuest, not only for the main elf characters but also for the trolls, humans, and other villains that they meet. There is a well-done quest plot and excellent art.

If you are a first-time reader, I would not suggest diving in with Siege at Blue Mountain and The Secret of Two-Edge; too much of the action depends on things that happened in the first four collections. I'd also say to track down the Donning/Starblaze collections if possible. The Complete ElfQuest recolored the art in the old collections, and in my opinion did a horrible job. The new colors are generally muddy and often don't fit the mood of the scene.

--Chuck Koelbel

Cradle   [**]
Arthur C. Clarke & Gentry Lee
Warner; 408pp; $4.95; 0-446-35601-8

This novel is about aliens coming to Earth, and the 3 main characters, plus several support players, who find them. However, that's telling the ending. The plot of this 400 page book begins at about page 250. The first two hundred pages consists of telling us about the way sexual situations have messed up the minds of the major characters or describing robots building machines.

In fairness, the prose is well written, but the information is boring. When they are dealing with the main plot I see the potential for an interesting story. But in this book the main plot seems secondary, and the ending would make you moan in pain if you were watching it in a movie theatre.

--Jim Winner

The Drabble Project Rob Meades & David B. Wake Beccon Publications, 75 Rosslyn Ave., Harold Wood, Essex RM3 ORG, ENGLAND

A Drabble is a story of exactly one hundred words. Up to fifteen additional words are allowed to cover title, sub-titles and so on. The genre originates in the Birmingham Science Fiction Society, where the game of Drabble has been played for many years. This book is a collection of exactly one hundred Drabbles written by both professional and amateur authors who took up the challenge from the brilliant Brum crowd.

The writers include Brian Aldiss, Isaac Asimov, Josephine Saxton, Garry Kilworth, Brian Stableford, Patrick Tilley, Larry Niven, Barrington J. Bayley, Terry Pratchett, Gene Wolfe, Harry Harrison, John Brunner, Bob Shaw, Charles Platt, to mention only a few of the pros -- in addition, the book reads like a "Who's Who in British Fandom".

Nobody will like all the stories -- but there are a few stories that will tickle anyone's fancy, and of course there's the attraction of owning this little green-bound jewel of a book. Bound to be a collector s item and a great conversation piece.

--Heidi Lyshol

Eve's Rib
Bryn Chandler
Pageant, 1989, $3.50, 270pp, 0-517-00645-6

The only survivor of an Earth colonization ship, Eve Conner is stranded on the unknown planet she chooses to call Genesis. She is, however, equipped with a mechanical biolab and a generous supply of human ova and sperm. From these, Eve will populate her colony. Yet it is up to her to shape the moral, ethical and political structure of humanity's last hope. Eve faces hard choices as she struggles to define the perfect society.

This is apparently the first SF novel by an experienced writer. As a first effort by a mundane, it's not too bad. The book spends too much time explaining the obvious; it's somewhat preachy in places, and pulls too many convenient technological rabbits out of hats. It would have been much improved by one ruthless pass from an experienced SF editor such as Ben Bova. Still, Eve's Rib has a clear vision of where it's going, and a certain sense of irony, however muffled.

--David M Shea

Farside Cannon [**]
Roger MacBride Allen
Baen, 1988, $3.95, 406pp, 0-671-65428-4

A mining corporation is shifting an asteroid to Earth orbit. A geological team is drilling off the coast of Iceland in search of proof of an ancient disaster. A rabidly anti-tech ecological group is stirring up trouble. On the Moon, politicians from several planets are arguing about the economy.

Mr Allen has shown he can write a killer novel when he has a real idea (Orphan Of Creation); and can create lively characters even in the service of a routine plot (Rogue Powers). Alas, little of this talent shines through in Farside Cannon, a stolid techno-disaster story which just never came alive for me. It's not awful, but I've come to expect more from this author.

--David M Shea

Feather Stroke
Sydney Joyce Van Scyoc
Avon, 1989, 264pp, $3.50, 0-380-75438-X

Dara was raised a daughter of the simple folk, a people who had abandoned the old gods and farmed their valleys in peace and security. But one day a pirate lord from the coastal cities came, demanding a marital alliance. Confronted with unacceptable choices, Dara must confront her heritage and learn to use the powers she has suppressed all her life. Destiny awaits Dara and her bird-companions: a showdown with a mad flame-priest in the rubble of a burning city.

This is billed as the author's first "fantasy", yet it shares many elements with her acclaimed trilogy Darkchild/Bluesong/Starsilk: an abiding sense of family; an almost instinctive ecological sense; an internalizing of the standard "quest" factor toward personal identity rather than an exterior goal. A moody book, it reminded me of James Taylor's "deep greens and blues"; yet the attentive reader will find the sun shining in late afternoon.

--David M Shea

Feral Cell
Richard Bowes
Questar, 1987, 212pp, $2.95, 0-445-20352-8

Manhattan, 1999: Robert Leal is a "game master", one who stages perverse role-playing games for debauched clients. He is haunted by the melancholy music of a dead friend; and people keep appearing and vanishing in the unknown realm called Capricorn, muttering cryptic slogans about "the Undying Cabal" and "the Feral Cell". Robert Leal faces almost certain death in New York, possible immortality in Capricorn; but the price of either may be appalling.

Call it cyberpunk without the "cyber-", an alternate-worlds novel as it might have been conceived by Lenny Bruce. This book combines dark Sixties nostalgia and future-shock paranoia, with a low-key style not ideally suited to either. Feral Cell is a weird and challenging, if not entirely successful book; admirers of, say, Delany might want to check it out. (Note to the publisher: Hire a proofreader who can punctuate correctly.)

--David M Shea

Firebird
Kathy Tyers
1987, Bantam, $3.50, 265 pp, 0-553-26716-7

Lady Firebird Angelo is a Wastling: an excess princess in the ruling family of Naetai. When the birth of her sister's child pushes her to the fatal fifth place in the succession, Firebird's duty is to die: heroically in combat if possible, so long as she dies. A battle and two suicide attempts fail her, however. Captured by the Federacy, interrogated by the telepathic Sentinels, Firebird must choose between the traditions she was raised to, and a potential new loyalty to a higher cause.

Routine in concept, largely predictable, about forty pages too long, this melodramatic little space-opera-cum-romance still has a certain modest appeal in the actual writing. This would rate as above average fan fiction, though short of real pro standards.

--David M Shea

Laying the Music to Rest
Dean Wesley Smith
Questar, 1989, 0-445-20934-8, 194pp., $3.95.

First novels grant readers a look through an unique window and carve the benchmark by which future works are judged. Smith has set himself an especially heavy task with this book, for it begins a series of vast temporal dimension, yet only hints at the underlying rationale and conflict.

When friends Fred and Constance ask his help in clearing a female ghost from their rustic inn, Doc Kellogg Jones agrees immediately. Jones, a dropout from Academia and a widower, readily abandons the bar and grill he runs in Boise, and hops jeep and packhorse for the Salmon River Primitive Wilderness Area. Once at the Roosevelt Lake Inn, he soon encounters ghostly Gretchen, the piano-playing saloon girl who drowned when a mudslide flooded the town of Roosevelt in 1909.

Wait a minute...a ghost from 80 years ago, underwater, on the shore, in inn, out and about, in a science fiction novel? Well, yes, and that's just one of the questions left hanging. Anyway, guests of the inn include Susan Rule, who mutters something about coming from a future Earth reseeded with humanity from past and present, and psychic researcher Steven Jerome, who's in empathic contact with the ectoplasmic lady.

A fortuitous skindiving dip to the bottom of the lake gains a magic mirror for Fred and Doc. Susan, who apparently told some truths about her origins, activates the mirror's transdimensional trigger and disappears. Doc, with nothing better to do, argues that he must use the mirror to follow Susan, since that's the only way to find Alex, ghostly Gretchen's long lost lover. So Doc rubs the mirror, and finds himself aboard the Titanic, yes, that Titanic, mere hours before the fateful iceberg. Just when he thinks he's going mad and going down with the ship, Doc meets Marjorie, and finds hundreds of fellow "prisoners" of a six-hour temporal recycling process. Meanwhile, back at the ranch, eh, the inn uptime 78 years, the Lomaxes are gunning for...well, you get the idea.

Was it some publishing decision to give us only fragments, hints and loose images about what's really going on here? Certainly the characters are just beginning to show development by the last page, and only one of several major plot elements reaches a meaningful conclusion. Yet, the saddle sores and Titanic banisters feel authentic, and Smith's full story seems worth waiting for.

--Dean R. Lambe

Orbital Decay
Allen Steele
Ace, Nov. 1989, 0-441-49581-5

New hard SF authors are rare these days, and a first novel that manages to combine fiction with technology is even rarer. Allen Steele's new book is both good hard SF and good fiction, and deserves the promotion it will receive as Ace's lead title for November. While the book has its flaws, Steele has written a genuinely original near-Earth orbit novel. And even though the blurbs will make the inevitable comparisons to Heinlein, Orbital Decay is far more realistic and subversive than anything the Master ever wrote.

The book has its flaws: an acceptable, if not amazing plot, a number of anachronisms (e.g. Steele's characters only like music from the sixties through the eighties), and a weak ending. But it does have a unique vision of the future. Orbital Decay works within believable human and physical constraints, and as such, is close to the ideal of a book from rather than about the future.

--Ken Meltsner

Prisoner of Dreams      [***]
Karen Ripley
Ballantine Books $3.95 263pg.

This is a very fast paced action story. It starts off running and never stops. Jo-lac is forced by a lack of money or a better cargo to pick up an indentured human, Lewis, as cargo. On takeoff the Military Authority tries to destroy her ship. It is clear her cargo is no ordinary person. The story is about Jo-lac's attempts to discover the secret of Lewis.

The plot, while predictable, is sensible. The relationship between Jo-lac and Redding is very obvious. Lewis's origins are obvious to the reader long before Jo-lac figures it out. The background society is well done and quite sensible as made up societies go. Except for Jo-lac most of the characters are developed just enough to avoid being cardboard cutouts but not enough to avoid being stereotypes. Ripley manages to present Jo-lac as a head strong impulsive person who is not a spoiled or stupid brat. This is an entertaining first novel that is competently done.

--Danny Low

Sinbad: The Thirteenth Voyage   [****]
R.A. Lafferty
Broken Mirrors Press, Box 473, Cambridge, MA 02238, $9.95 + $1.00 p/h

R.A. Lafferty's popularity of the 6O's and 70's when he appeared on Nebula and Hugo ballots (winning the Hugo in 1973 for "Eurema's Dam") has sadly decreased in recent years. Now, his unique short stories and novels are published only by small presses. Sinbad: The Thirteenth Voyage is his latest novel.

Essindibad Copperbottom, the true Sinbad the Sailor (and spy) and his wife, Grand-Dame Tumblehome, travel from the planet Kentauron to Earth during the time of the Arabian Nights to find Harum, the golden child, who has been born again. Once there Sinbad and his wife encounter more spies; John Scarlatti Thunderson of North Chicago, inventor of the Almost-Anything Space-and-Time Ship; and Scheherazade. They all get caught up in a wonderfully funny and crazy tale of Harum, two brothers fighting over a kingdom, dragons, demons, spaceships and a battle at the Gates of Hell. No attempt to describe the plot would do it justice. There's a lot of Lafferty's own brand of humor, twists, turns and double crosses, strange characters (including the spaceships) and a perfect ending. Highly recommended.

--Steve Pasechnick

Target
Janet Morris and David Drake
Ace, 0-441-79955-8, 312 pp., July 1989, $3.95

Morris and Drake have worked together before in Kill Ratio and Active Measures fairly successfully. Their books tend to fall into the military/political categories as far as plot goes and their strength lies in believable behind-the-scenes action and realistic characterization.

Target is a novel of first contact, and while this is certainly not a new topic, Morris and Drake do provide enough twists to make it worthwhile. The story revolves around Channon, an alien negotiator whose peacekeeper mission to Rillian space is quite rudely interrupted when his ship is blown apart by those he's going to negotiate with. The destruction of his ship has thrown his survival capsule through a hole in spacetime and into our universe. Landing his ship on the farside of the moon, Channon makes his way to a United Nations-run moonbase. From here the novel flies.

This really is quick-paced stuff with barely enough time to catch your breath before another conflict bursts upon you and tugs you along for the ride. While I found the aliens (both Channon, representing the Unity and the Rillian warriors who are environmentally developed to fill their roles) quite interesting, the strength of the book lies with the human characters. Yes, at first Morris and Drake seem to be casting up stereotypes--the square jawed American Deputy of Security, the Russian General, the American Diplomat who's really undercover intelligence--but it doesn't last. These are real people, and that's both a negative and a positive.

Every time I found myself starting to like one of the characters and thought I had them figured out, they went ahead and did something totally human. This threw me at first. Who was I supposed to identify with? But as I read on, I couldn't help but be impressed with how true to form these characters were--how their thoughts and actions mirrored reality.

This book can be enjoyed on a couple of different levels--as a straight action adventure, as a novel of first contact with some relatively interesting aliens or as a novel which dares to give its characters conflicting beliefs, attitudes and behaviors--just like you and me. You'll find enough to keep you going to the end.

--Steven Sawicki

Walkers
Graham Masterton
TOR, 0-312-93201-4, 346pps, 1989, $18.95

Not many horror novels raise goose bumps as I read them, but Walkers set such chills through me that I had to look around the bedroom before turning off the light (the last novel to do this previously was Phantoms by Dean R. Koontz).

Jack Reed's life is coming apart, his marriage is crumbling and to complicate matters he has just purchased an ancient rundown insane asylum with the intent of turning it into a country club. However he gets more than he bargains for as he discovers that the walls of this asylum contain the still living bodies of the former inmates who disappeared sixty years earlier. Now they are trying to escape and they kidnap Jack's young son planning to use him as their gateway to freedom and let loose destruction on the world. However in order to accomplish their release, 800 innocent people must be sacrificed for each of the inmates imprisoned in the walls.

With Walkers, Masterton has created a superb, well-conceived chiller of ultimate evil. Masterton enhances the effectiveness of this well-developed story with vivid imagery and strong characterization. Walkers is one of Masterton's best and is very highly recommended. Some of Graham Masterton's other works include Mirror, The Manitou, Night Warriors and his most recent success (as editor) Scare Care.

--Richard Weilgosh

The Wall Around Eden
Joan Slonczewski
Morrow, 1989, 1-55710-030-6, 288pp., $18.95

The few, yet remarkable novels from Slonczewski share common concerns for nonviolence in the face of the human condition, but no two of her lyrical tales are alike in setting or plot. This time she offers a rite of passage for a troubled young woman, against a background of near-future alien invasion and small town survival in post-holocaust America.

A score of years after Death Year and nuclear winter, the village of Gwynwood U.S.A. struggles to maintain its tiny bubble of life. One of a very few remaining pockets of humanity in North America, the heterogeneous mix of 142 people, some Quaker, some Lutheran, token Catholics and Jews, all of Gwynwood wonder why God or alien might have spared them from the nuclear Armageddon, and whether alien or God may be one and the same.

In this close, yet diffuse community, Isabel Garcia-Chase seeks escape through the airwall that the Keepers have locked around the town. At weekly worship and town meetings, Isabel and her friends press their elders for answers to the what and the why of the strange alien presence, and the workings of the Pylon devices that support what little communication and trade remains in the world. The older generation fears the visible horror of death that lies immediately outside the Walls, as well as the continuing radiation hazard of the deadlands, and there seems little chance that Isabel, her friend Peace Hope, or her unrequited love, Daniel, will ever master the aliens' extradimensional transport system to reach Earth's last remaining city, Sydney, Australia.

Isobel does construct a forbidden radio, and while it gains her insight into the nature of the Angelbees, a Committee of Concern--in the Quaker fashion--convinces her to surrender this threat to Gwynwood security to their enigmatic masters. Then, blind Becca, Isobel's influential teacher, leaves a cryptic message about the hydrogen gasbag Angelbees and disappears from the community. The ever-curious Isobel finds a way through the Wall and earns an apparent summons from the alien hive queen for herself and Daniel. Once beyond the Wall, the teenagers discover more truth than they are ready to accept about both human past and future, and the alien mission. For all she has sought escape and independence, Isobel learns that they come at a price which may be too high to pay.

In tone and texture, Eden recalls the very best of young adult science fiction, and it fits well with modern classics by Yolen and Le Guin. In religious and moral discourse, however, the novel is fully adult--albeit a bit out of step with current "I've got mine" culture. However categorized, it's sure to be an award contender, and a work not to be missed.

--Dean R. Lambe

------ End ------

Issue 26, Winter 1990 (part 5)

Electronic OtherRealms #26
Winter, 1990
Part 5 of 8

Copyright 1990 by Chuq Von Rospach
All Rights Reserved.

OtherRealms may be distributed electronically only in the original form and with copyrights, credits and return addresses intact.

OtherRealms may be reproduced in printed form only for your personal use.

No part of OtherRealms may be reprinted or used in any other
publication without permission of the author.

All rights to material published in OtherRealms hereby revert to the author.

Past Imaginging: These are a few of my favorite things Lawrence Watt-Evans Copyright 1990 by Lawrence Watt-Evans

Okay, folks, I've written on forgotten classics that I remember fondly from my youth; but I haven't pointed out some of my not-so-forgotten favorites, books that I think everybody should read. Most of these are neither obscure nor particularly famous--they're just good. I'll say a few words about each, so you can pick the ones you think will match your own tastes (though they're all fine).

First off, there's The Whole Man, by John Brunner. Brunner became famous when he wrote Stand on Zanzibar, but he'd been working steadily in the field for years before that, and my very favorite of all his work is The Whole Man, the story of Gerry Howson, a lame, humpbacked hemophiliac, one of the most miserable creatures on Earth, born and raised in a slum--and the most powerful natural telepath who ever lived. Expanded from "Curative Telepath", The Whole Man is somewhat episodic, starting with Howson's birth, following through his formative years and his discovery of his talents, then describing a few cases handled in his career, a job that consists of pulling other telepaths out of fantasy worlds they've created, before winding up with a personal search for fulfillment and a happy ending reminiscent of Heinlein's "Waldo"--only more satisfying.

And while you're reading Brunner, Stand on Zanzibar remains the best overpopulation novel I've ever read, and The Sheep Look Up, while almost unbearably downbeat and depressing, is the best ecological disaster novel I've ever read.

The rest of Brunner's work--except for the magnificent fantasy The Traveller in Black--ain't much by comparison with these three.

Engine Summer, by John Crowley, is a long-after-the-holocaust novel that does about the best job I've ever encountered of putting the reader inside the head of a protagonist with a genuinely different way of thinking. Rush that Speaks is entirely human--at least, throughout most of the novel--but a member of a culture that bears little resemblance to our own, even though it's descended from modern-day California. Rush wants to be a saint, which in his society means a person whose life is transparent, so that through it, others may see their world and themselves. If that sounds too metaphysical or mystical, you may not like Engine Summer--but you should try it, as the mysticism is not the contrived occultism of most SF or fantasy novels with mystic elements, but an alternate worldview, a part of a different culture. Anyone interested in anthropology has to read this.

Dying of the Light, by George R.R. Martin, I think everyone will like--except maybe for the ending, which even one of the editors hated. It's a story of culture shock, love, war, and action, with something for everyone. The hero has been summoned to the dying festival world of Worlorn by a message he believes comes from his former lover, now married to one of the men of High Kavalaan--except that the lover won't tell him why he was summoned, and things grow ever more complicated as Dirk t'Larien gets further and further embroiled in the internal conflicts and culture of High Kavalaan and the other societies that set up the festival on Worlorn. This book has some of the best chase scenes ever written, a well-thought-out alien culture or two, sex, romance, friendship, treachery, all that good stuff--and an ending that infuriates people because it stops a paragraph sooner than it ought to, leaving it open for the reader to figure out the outcome of a duel.

Another of my favorite books is, believe it or not, Star Rogue, by Lin Carter. Okay, I know what you're saying--"Lin Carter? Gimme a break! All he ever wrote was junk!"

Well, yeah, that's mostly true. Most of his fiction was bad imitations of Edgar Rice Burroughs, Robert E. Howard and others. A lot was sword-and-sorcery, a genre that's usually pretty bad anyway, and Lin Carter wrote some of the trashiest ever.

How can anyone write well, when imitating Howard, or Burroughs, or Lovecraft, all of whom were basically second-rate writers? Sure, they wrote nifty stuff, but stylistically, most of their work was horrible.

In Star Rogue he was trying to imitate Heinlein. The result is actually quite tolerable. The story involves an adventure of Saul Everest, Earth's only immortal man and the galaxy's top freelance secret agent, semi-retired. The star rogue of the title--a gravitational anomaly cruising the galactic rim--is totally irrelevant to the plot and explained away in a single sentence near the end. It's all free-form space opera, with terraformed asteroids, telepathic aliens, , galactic empires, attempted coups, and all sorts of fun stuff going on. It's a lot of fun. Not great literature, but one of the best space operas I've read.

Makes you wonder how he'd do if he didn't imitate anyone, doesn't it?

I just thought of something--you have all read Fredric Brown's stuff, haven't you? I have in mind What Mad Universe and Martians, Go Home. Brown's specialty was humorous SF, usually gently mocking the cliches of the genre--some of which are extinct now, but Brown's been dead for a quarter of a century, so you have to bear with him on that.

In What Mad Universe, the mild-mannered editor of a science fiction pulp is visiting the estate of his wealthy publisher in upstate New York, working on the letter column for the next issue-- specifically, trying to answer the latest LoC from Joe Doppleberg, an unbearably fannish space-opera lover--when he's hit on the head by an unsuccessful unmanned moon rocket. The rocket carries a device designed to make a flash on the lunar surface that would be visible on Earth; instead, it transports our hero into a parallel universe, where Earth is in a war with Arcturus--just the way Joe Doppleberg would like it.

In Martians, Go Home, Earth is invaded by ten zillion little green men from Mars, who can turn invisible, see through walls, and so forth, and who haven't come to take over--just to make everybody's lives utterly miserable through petty harassment. What sort of harassment? Oh, well, for example there's the honeymoon couple who find a Martian sitting on of the bed demanding to watch their disgusting mating rituals.

Pure fun throughout, both of them.

Scattered Gold
Charles de Lint
Copyright 1990 by Charles de Lint

Allow me a slight digression, if you will. While attending Silicon in San Jose this past Thanksgiving weekend, my wife MaryAnn and I had the good fortune to finally meet the faithful editors of OtherRealms--yes, none other than the charming Chuq Von Rospach and the equally charming Laurie Sefton. Not only did they put up with my having a cold (and coughing disagreeably throughout most of the weekend), but they also took MaryAnn and I to some wonderful galleries in Palo Alto. Except for a couple of hours of touring San Francisco in a van, said tour being conducted by Katherine Kerr and the brave Alis Rasmussen (I say brave, because she had her three-and-a-half-month old twins in tow), and Tom Whitmore's ferrying us about the freeways whilst regaling us with welcome conversation, this visit to Palo Alto's University Avenue was about all that we saw of California this time out.

Some, the unkind among you, might say that was plenty, but MaryAnn and I love toddling about new cities, and weren't in the least bit ready to get back onto a plane for the ten-and-a-half hour flight back home when the weekend was done. But at least we took home more than just memories of freeways and the convention hotel, for which thanks are hereby being publicly rendered.

None of which has anything to do with books or reviewing, except that the folks mentioned are all involved in those very endeavours, in one way or another--in fact, I think we run the gamut of writers, reviewers, editors, publishers and booksellers--and I felt that their cheerful hosting did not deserve to go unremarked.

Yes, but what about the books? I can hear the more disgruntled among you muttering as you scan the page looking for the business that's supposed to be at hand rather than your reviewer's reminiscences of his Thanksgiving weekend. (Great dinner, by the way, Donya and Allen--thanks again.) So without further ado:

Luck of the Wheels
Megan Lindholm
Ace, December 1989; 256pp; $3.50, 0-441-50436-1

The trouble with trilogies and series, as you're no doubt tired of hearing, is that far too often the volumes subsequent to the first become merely paler and paler imitations of what seemed so invigoratingly fresh at first. Happily, there are always exceptions to the rule, as can so aptly be seen in the works of writers such as Parke Godwin, Judith Tarr and a handful of others.

Like Megan Lindholm.

Ki, the Romni trader, and her companion Vandien, a storyteller and swordsman, are once again the protagonists of her latest novel, and they remain as likable and full of life as they did when we were first introduced to them in Harpy's Flight. And Luck of the Wheels, rather than being a repetitive parade of the previous books, moves the characters into new territories--both literal, as they travel across an unfamiliar landscape and the problems inherent therein and interior, as they are forced to re-evaluate their relationship with, and perceptions of, each other.

Lindholm's prose is the kind that won't let go; the story just swallows you whole and the writing sings. As has always happened when I start one of her books, I was hooked from the opening page--by the sheer warmth of her characters and her stylistic charm. Luck of the Wheels is as satisfying a fantasy as you could hope for, except for one thing: how does the story of "The Pot of Jam and the Bird of Life" end anyway?

Gate of Darkness, Circle of Light
Tanya Huff
DAW, November 1989; 272pp; $3.95, 0-88677-386-5

I'm a little shocked at how quickly the subgenre of contemporary fantasy has settled into certain stock character types and plot situations not all that different from high fantasy. Wandering thieves, rogues, elves, wizards and bards have been replaced with artists, bagladies, punk elves, Wicca and street musicians. The focus of Light against Dark is still present, there are quests and talisman...in fact, all that's really changed is the setting.

There should be a good reason for using a contemporary setting--not simply a transfer of high fantasy elements into modern times for the sake of another "same, but different" stories. The contemporary fantasy should only work in a modern setting, illuminating present day concerns through the use of its fantastical elements. One shouldn't be able to take the story and place it in a mock-medieval setting with no real seams showing, like so much space opera is merely a western in space.

Tanya Huff--after a pair of entertaining light high fantasies--gets about half of it right as she moves her storytelling into contemporary Toronto with her recent Gate of Darkness, Circle of Light.

We've seen much of this before, in one guise or another. There's the wise force of good (Light) and the utterly evil antagonist (Dark). Mrs. Ruth the baglady takes on the role of the wandering wizard. There's the traditional apprentice in the street musician Roland who is going to be a Bard and the occasional point of views from the local police's perspective. And we have some magical illogic in that the magic is set up as Light versus Dark, with some little faerie grey folk in between, but the whole resolution of the tale comes with a "pull out of the hat" of the Mother Goddess, who's affiliated with none of the above until the plot requires it.

But happily, Huff has also added some touches that are all her own. One of her principal characters is a mentally disadvantaged woman named Rebecca; the sweet innocence of her point of view is refreshing. Another fascinating character is Rebecca's social worker, the East Indian woman Daru, which gives Huff a chance to make some pertinent points about current sociological problems (without preaching, I should add). Unfortunately, these characters aren't on stage nearly enough and Rebecca's warm simplicity is somewhat marred by another "pull out of the hat" when we discover the truth behind her origin.

The other strength of Huff's latest novel is how she brings her contemporary setting to life. Her prose ranges from evocative to workmanlike, but all in all, the potential is present in her work for a very fine contemporary fantasist--one capable of taking on the challenge of making her own mark in the fantasy field. If it seems that I've dwelled a little too long on the stereotypical side of this book, it's only because I believe Huff is capable of far more than what we have here--a competent and entertaining fantasy that could have been written by any number of authors.

There are characters, passages of prose and aspects of the plot (such as Roland's journey through a literary mythic otherworld) in Gate of Darkness, Circle of Light that are as good as anything the field has to offer. When Huff moves on from territories already covered by Lindholm, Paxson, Bull, et al, and presents us with the elements of her own unique world view, I believe we can look forward to some outstanding fiction, indeed.

Cowboy Feng's Space Bar & Grill
Steven Brust
Ace, January 1990; 224pp; $3.50, 0-441-11816-X

Steven Brust's new novel is every bit as wild as its busy Jim Gurney cover purports it to be--even if nothing on the cover actually appears in the book. The concept is pure Brust: there's a restaurant/bar called Cowboy Feng's which has the ability to vanish from one planet as it's about to get nuked and reappear on another one, giving the impression that it's always been there. The why of this is what the plot's all about, and I'm not going to get into it for the usual reasons, except to remark that for all the witty dialogue, neat ideas and the like, that plot could really have been more to the front.

That's the down side of the book. It rambles about quite a bit, with much going on, but the plot is furthered at a snail's pace. On the plus side, as mentioned above, it has all the things that make a Brust novel so entertaining--enough so that the vague meanderings of the plot don't really matter. And--I hasten to add, just in case you think that the author of the Jhereg books has lost his touch--the last quarter of Cowboy Feng's is just slam-packed with action and, yes, all is revealed.

It's not Brust's best book yet, but I'll take a lesser Brust over much of what else is out there on the stands--every time, hands down, no question about it.

Good news from outer space
John Kessel
TOR, August 1989; 402pp; $18.95, 0-312-93178-6

If you've been following this column for awhile, you might have noticed that this time out I seem a little crankier than usual. I'm not sure why that is; I suppose it's just that I haven't found anything I can really rave over these past few months except for some non-genre stuff and Ken Grimwood's Replay (Arbor House, 1986), neither of which fit in this column--the former because this isn't the place to discuss such books, the latter because it's somewhat old for a column's that's trying to cover more recent work (though that's not going to stop me from telling you to run out and get it because it's astonishingly good).

And so, preambling along, we come to the new John Kessel novel.

I've been enjoying his short fiction for some time now and was quite looking forward to this new novel, not having read any of his longer work before. And it's a good novel. Kessel takes on the absurdities of TV evangelism and supermarket tabloids and weaves them into a fascinating exploration of our present culture as it nears the year 2000. The prose is evocative, even striking; the characters are realistically represented, warts and all; the future speculation--from technology and its inevitable effects on society through to the changes in society and its mores as the century nears its end--are well-thought out and believably tendered; and the plot, though it meanders some, resolves as it only could--satisfying, yet with a bittersweet edge to it.

But--you knew there'd be a but, didn't you?--I found the way that Kessel grafted previously published short stories into the text to be cumbersome and unnecessary to the storyline, for all that they highlighted effects of the aliens upon normal folks. The characters appear only in those segments, never to return except perhaps in a peripheral mention from some television broadcast.

What's wrong with putting those stories in there? For me, they lessened the initial impact of the material--their presence in the book stole away their original power. Now perhaps they were always parts of the book and Kessel merely lifted them out for some extra sales, but they didn't work in the context of the book. Not for me. Perhaps because I had read them before. But also, I believe, because they sit there on their own, part of the novel because they share the same background, but apart from it because they're never followed up in the context of the greater plotline.

I suppose this is really being nit-picking, but I was moved by the original appearances of these pieces and don't like the way I'm now left feeling about them. I'd be interested in hearing from those of you who haven't kept up on Kessel's short fiction to see what your reactions are.

So yeah, read this book. It's got a thread of despair that cuts deeply through it, it serves up a warning of where we're letting the future take us, but it ends with hope. And in these days, we need all the hope we can get.

------ End ------

Issue 26, Winter 1990 (part 6)

Electronic OtherRealms #26
Winter, 1990
Part 6 of 8

Copyright 1990 by Chuq Von Rospach
All Rights Reserved.

OtherRealms may be distributed electronically only in the original form and with copyrights, credits and return addresses intact.

OtherRealms may be reproduced in printed form only for your personal use.

No part of OtherRealms may be reprinted or used in any other
publication without permission of the author.

All rights to material published in OtherRealms hereby revert to the author.

The Agony Column
Reviews by Rick Kleffel
Copyright 1990 by Rick Kleffel

So you read the latest Stephen King novel in two days and the new Koontz hasn't come in. What do you do when you want something different that's actually the same? You look on the fringes. There's plenty of writing out there, passing itself off as mystery, SF, even mainstream fiction that has all the elements the good horror reader wants -- excitement, imagination, reality, tension. So read those back cover blurbs carefully.

Dream Baby      [****]
Bruce McAllister
Tor, $18.95, 0-312-93197-2

Last year, Peter Straub's Koko set a high standard for horror epics set in or around Vietnam. Even that novel skirted the issue by being set in the present and reaching back to the past. Since then, a number of works have come out that use veterans as characters, but no one else has really tried what Bruce McAllister tries in Dream Baby -- a full-scale ESP in Vietnam novel, played out by American troops stationed in Vietnam during the early 1960s. It's a path plagued with pitfalls and ripe for Rambo-esque exaggerations. McAllister evades the pitfalls and succeeds in creating a novel that is authentic, imaginative and complex. But Dream Baby is not a thriller-style page turner like Koko. It's an atmospheric look at experiments in combat-induced ESP and stands as one of best novels of psychic phenomena ever written.

Interviews with veterans are interspersed around the interview with the novel's narrator, Mary Danico, a nurse who starts to dream of wounds and then sees those wounds in the operating room. McAllister's style is obviously the result of the thousands of hours of interviews he heard and conducted. The narrative creates a thick swamp-like miasma, in which, ESP-like powers are not stable but ever-changing, shifting to suit the situations and the characters. This makes the characters, particularly Robert ("The Captain") the most convincing and menacing characters with psychic powers ever created. The conclusion, reminiscent of Theodore Sturgeon, is astounding. While Dream Baby is not for everyone, those who enjoy atmospheric writing similar to Lucius Shepherd should seek out Dream Baby.

A Dozen Tough Jobs      [****+]
Howard Waldrop
Mark V. Zeising, $16.00, 0-92480-01-5

Famed horror director Wes Craven stated in an interview that he considered the Greek Myths the original horror stories. He probably hadn't yet read the Twelve Labors of Hercules via Howard Waldrop, however. In A Dozen Tough Jobs, the strangest writer this side of the dimensional barrier that separates men from the howling madness transposes the Labors to 1926 Mississippi. This book isn't for everyone, but if anybody will adopt Waldrop as an author, it should be the horror readers.

This book is in no way a work of horror, but that doesn't mean that horror fans who appreciate a solid sense of the surreal mixed with a good sense of humor won't find extremely rewarding reading here. Waldrop's hero is Houlka Lee, a convict working off the remainder of his sentence for Boss Eustus, and his tale is narrated by IO, Invictus Ovidus, a lanky black kid assigned to help out the humongous Houlka. Waldrop's usual tendency to subvert history is here diverted to an attempt to re-name history.

There are some rather jarring gaps that indicate that this might be a novel in progress. No matter. If you're interested in Greek Myths, the old south, or Howard Waldrop, once you surrender to this handsomely designed book you won't want to let go.

Stone Shadow    [****]
Rex Miller
Onyx, $3.95, 0-451-40164-0

Stone Shadow is great news for Rex Miller fans. He's been getting better with every book, and this, the third novel in the Eichord sextet, is the strongest entry yet. Slob, while written in a unique style, suffered from sloppiness and stereotypical characters. Frenzy, the second novel, had bang-up characters and better writing, but veered towards predictability with another Eichord romance too similar to the romance in Slob. Stone Shadow almost eliminates the romance and signals a return of Miller's interesting views of almost ESP. His style is still unique but is cleaner. More importantly, he finally integrated aspects of mystery into his plot to make this novel more thrilling.

Eichord is sent to find a serial killer, a terrifying being who claims to have killed hundreds of people in the Southwestern states. But the man claiming to be the killer is already in custody--or is he? Miller takes the Eichord on a frightening voyage into a deranged mind. Although there's a touch less gore in this novel, readers will still need a strong stomach to make it through, but it's worth the trip. Horrifying and original, this is the novel that marks the arrival of another great horror writer.

A Child Across the Sky [***+] Jonathan Carroll Legend, Century Hutchinson Ltd., 0-7126-2588-7, $30.00

The best thing about A Child Across the Sky is that it's totally unpredictable. Even when you're on the next to last page, you don't know how it's going to end. Unfortunately, many readers aren't going know how it ended even after they finish it. If you like horror fiction with messy problems and tidy solutions, then you probably won't be satisfied with A Child Across the Sky. If you like your fiction open-ended, thoughtful and mysterious, you'll probably love Jonathan Carroll's newest novel.

A Child Across the Sky is in some ways a sequel to Carroll's earlier novel The Bones of the Moon. It starts with the death of Philip Strayhorn, a horror movie director who committed suicide and left a task for his best friend Weber Gregston. It seems that Phil created something on the set of his latest, uncompleted movie, something that had no right to exist. This gives Carroll a platform to ponder the moral implications of creating horror art. Readers will find something lacking in other works--a morality, carefully thought-out but not summed up in pontificating platitudes.

Despite this tendency towards edification, Carroll manages to infuse this novel with tension, which is much abetted by his sense of mystery. This is also a work where horror is an integral part of the narrative. In a genre where tension becomes predictable, Carroll creates a terror that far more genuine because it is based on a horrific point of view rather and a close-up view of the horrific.

Haunted [***]
James Herbert
Putnam, $16.95, 0-399-13486-7

The gothic novel seems to be having a minor resurgence, and it's not too surprising that James Herbert is at the front of the pack. Haunted resurrects the glories of isolated houses holding even more isolated characters. It's a classy, restrained performance by a mainstream horror writer.

The story revolves around David Ash, a psychic debunker who is assigned to study a haunting at Edbrook, the Mariell family house. But he brings with him his own past, and his own haunts. Herbert doesn't clutter up the narrative with an excess of subplotting or extraneous thriller elements. He instead pursues the mystery straight to the gothic heart of David Ash. This streamlined feel is a plus, since gothics often tend to get lost in the plotting.

Sometimes however, Herbert's thinness causes problems, particularly in his descriptions of Ash's ghostbusting gear. We've seen the movies, from Poltergeist to Ghostbusters, and we know that there's more to exposing fakes than flour and flashlights. In this respect, Herbert's minimalism rings untrue, but it does allow him to get on with the story without getting caught up in the gadgets. For those who like their scares old-fashioned, well-written and purely enjoyable, Haunted is just the book to read on a cold winter night.

The Grocery List: Shopping in an Upscale Market

You say you're tired of junk food, and want some gourmet horror? If you've got the money, you can get it. There's a feast of high-priced terror out there, just waiting for your wallets. Don't look too closely. You don't really want to know what kind of meat you're eating, do you?

Tales of the Cthulu Mythos      [*****]
H. P. Lovecraft and Others
Arkham, $23.95, 0-87054-159-5

Got a few dollars to spare? Here's something for your must buy list -- Tales of the Cthulu Mythos is a festival of evil seafood in a glorious 50th anniversary edition. You may have read some of the stories, but those you haven't are like old friends you haven't met yet -- familiar, but lots of fun to get to know. For HP Lovecraft's formless horrors, JK Potter is of course, the perfect illustrator.

Razored Saddles [****+]
Joe R. Lansdale and Pat LoBruto
Dark Harvest, $19.95

Attention weirdos! Gather around out west for some of the strangest stuff ever to come out of Dark Harvest. Joe Lansdale's intro is worth the price, but who in their right mind would want to miss McCammon, Lansdale, Lewis Shiner, Scott Cupp, Richard Laymon, Neal Barret, or better yet, Howard Waldrop's "Passing of the Western"? Not you, pardner.

Stalkers        [***+]
Ed Gorman and Martin H. Greenburg
Dark Harvest, 0-913165-47-6

Here's a theme anthology that's a surefire winner, done in a "Hardback EC"-style: a collection of stalker/victim stories with a new novella by Dean Koontz. But the real killers are Rex Miller's Eichord vignette and Richard Laymon's moonlight ride.

Night Visions 7 [****]
Stanley Wiater
Dark Harvest, 0-913165-50-6

It doesn't take a psychic to predict that any edition of the Night Visions series will be worth reading. This time, Richard Laymon provides the rat-eating highlights, Chet Williamson the flesh-eating priest (sounds corny but it reads like liquid gold), Gary Brandner the man-eating dogmen, and Stanley Wiater some very informative interviews in lieu of the typical horror-is-a-good-thing intro. So what if every edition gets good reviews? Can there really be too much of a good thing?

Masques III     [****]
JN Williamson
St. Martin's,$17.95, 0-312-2948-9

A major anthology series moves to the big press and gets better. Sounds impossible, but leave it to Williamson to pull it off. This one's bigger than the others, but it's all quality stuff. And anybody who gives a whole category to monsters is barking at the right planet.

Resurrection Dreams [*****]
Richard Laymon
WH Allen, $30.00, 0-491-03398-2

Richard Laymon writes beautiful, minimalist, almost existential prose -- he's the Phillip Glass of splatter. But he makes you care about about his characters, and creates scenes that will stick in your mind. Imagine a Sartre/Romero/Koontz collaboration--that'll give you some idea of the talent shown in this novel. It may take less time to read than some books, but when you're done, Resurrection Dreams is something you'll be able to read again.

The Hacker      [***-]
Chet Day
Pocket, $3.95, 0-671-67611-3

Well-informed both on electronic networking and Japanese folklore, The Hacker does the inevitable and brings a bad thing to a computer network. Enjoyable reading, it does exhibit the tendency to line up the victims. NeXT?

Books and Magazines Received

Fantasy

Anthony, Piers, Unicorn Point, Ace, January, 1990, 337pp, $4.50,
0-441-84563-0. Book six of the Apprentice Adept series.
Asprin, Robert Lynn & Abbey, Lynn. Stealer's Sky, Ace, December, 1989,
240pp, $3.95, 0-441-80612-0 Thieves' World #12.
Bailey, Robin W. The Lake of Fire, Bantam, October, 1989, 281pp, $3.95,
0-553-28185-2. The Dungeon Volume 4.
Blaylock, James P. The Last Coin, Ace, 328pp, December, 1989, $3.95,
0-441-47075-0.
Bradley, Marion Zimmer. The Heirs of Hammerfell, DAW, Dec, 1989, 300pp,
$18.95, 0-88677-395-4
Bradley, Marion Zimmer. The Shattered Chain, DAW, April, 1976, 287pp,
$3.95, 0-88677-308-3
Brunner, John. The Compleat Traveller in Black, Collier, November,
1989, 231pp, $3.95, 0-02-030720-9.
Cherryh, C.J. & Lackey, Mercedes. Reap the Whirlwind, Baen, November,
1989, 273pp, $3.95, 0-671-69846-X.
Cook, Rick. The Wizardry Compiled, Baen, January, 1990, 307pp, $3.95,
0-671-69856-7.
Costello, Matthew J. Wizard of Tizare, Bantam, January, 1990, 313pp,
$3.95, 0-553-28303-0. Guardians of the Three volume 3.
de Lint, Charles. Jack, the Giant-Killer, Ace, January, 1990, 186pp,
$3.50, 0-441-37970-2.
Deitz, Tom. Darkthunder's Way, Avon, December, 1989, 342pp, $3.50,
0-380-75508.
Drake, David & Miesel, Sandra. Heads to the Storm, Baen, November, 1989,
273pp, $3.50, 0-671-69847-8.
Feist, Raymond. Prince of the Blood, Bantam, August, 1989, 360pp,
$18.95, 0-385-23624-7.
Finch, Sheila. Shaping the Dawn, Bantam, November, 1989, 309pp, $3.95,
0-553-28287-5.
Gardner, Craig Shaw. Slaves of the Volcano God, Ace, October, 1989,
213pp, 3.95, 0-441-76977-2.
Grant, Richard. Views from the Oldest House, Doubleday, Dec, 1989,470pp,
$8.95, 0-385-26428-3.
Green, Sharon. Hellhound Magic, DAW, November, 1989, 400pp, $4.50,
0-88677-399-7.
Huff, Tanya. Gate of Darkness, Circle of LIght, DAW, November, 1989,
272pp, 3.95, 0-88677-386-5.
Hughart, Barry. The Story of the Stone, Bantam, November, 1989, 289pp,
$4.50, 0-553-28278-6.
Hyman, Jackie. Shadowlight, DAW, 236pp, December, 1989, $3.50,
0-88677-397-0.
Lichtenberg, Jacqueline. Dreamspy, St. Martin's, December 1989, 337pp,
$19.95, 0-312-03327-3.
McKiernan, Dennis L. Dragon Doom, Bantam, February, 1990, 485pp, $4.50,
0-553-28337-5.
Miesel, Sandra. Shaman, Baen, October, 1989, 306pp, $3.50,
0-671-69844-3.
Norton, Andre. Dare to Go A-hunting, Tor, December, 1989, 248pp, $16.95,
0-312-85012-3.
Norton, Andre. Wizard's Worlds, Tor, October, 1989, 500pp, $17.95,
0-312-93191-3.
Rogers, Mark E. Samurai Cat in the Real World, Tor, October, 1989,
128pp, $12.95, 0-312-93198-0.
Saberhagen, Fred. Coinspinners Story, Tor, December, 1989, 244pp,
$16.95, 0-312-93221-9.
Silverberg, Robert & Haber, Karen. Mutant Season, Doubleday, October,
1989, 289pp, $8.95, 0-385-26647-2.
Smith, David Vanmeter. Trinity Grove, Avon, Feb, 1990, 277pp, $3.95,
0-380-75835-0. First Novel.
Tarr, Judith. Alamut, Doubleday, December, 1989, 470pp, $8.95,
0-385-26435-6.
Wagner, Karl Edward, Echoes of Valor II, Tor, October, 1989, 284pp,
$17.95, 0-312-93189-1.
Williams, Tad. Dragonbone Chair, DAW, November, 1989, 783pp, $5.95,
0-88677-384-9
Williams, Tad. Tailchaser's Song, DAW, 1985, 575pp, $4.95,
0-88677-374-1. Reissue.
Williamson, Jack. Darker than you Think, Collier, November, 1989, 264pp,
$4.95, 0-02-038350-9.
Wilson, David Henry. The Coachman Rat, Carroll&Graf, Oct, 1989, 171pp,
13.85, 0-88184-508-6.
Wilson, Robert Charles. A Hidden Place, Bantam, November, 1989, 212pp,
$3.95, 0-553-26103-7.
Wingrove, David. Chung Kuo, Delacorte, January, 1990, 630pp, $19.95,
0-385-29873-0.
Yolen, Jane. White Jenna, Tor, October, 1989, 265pp, $17.95,
0-312-93195-6.

Horror

Boyle, Josephine. Maiden's End, St. Martin's Press, November, 1989,
265pp, $17.95, 0-312-03391-5.
Day, Chet. The Hacker, Pocket, November, 1989, 310pp, $3.95,
0-671-67611-3.
Herbert, James. Haunted, Putnam, Oct, 1989, 220pp, 0-399-13486-7.
Jarvis, Sharon. True Tales of the Unknown, Bantam, November, 1989,
272pp, 3.95, 0-553-28251-4.
Lovecraft, H.P. Tales of the Cthulhu Mythos, Arkham House, 529pp,
$23.95, 0-87054-159-5
Masello, Robert. Black Horizon, Jove, October, 1989, 292pp, $3.95,
0-515-10168-0.
McAllister, Bruce. Dream Baby, Tor, October, 1989, 434pp, $18.95,
0-312-93197-2.
Neiderman, Andrew. Perfect Little Angels, Berkley, September, 1989,
262pp, $3.95, 0-425-11775-8.
Paine, Michael. Owl Light, Charter, November, 1989, 232pp, $3.95,
0-55773-277-9.
Rogers, Mark. The Dead, Berkley, December, 1989, 289pp, $3.95,
0-425-11611-5.
Rusch, Kristine Kathryn, ed. Pulphouse #5: Horror, Fall, 1989, 280pp,
from P.O. Box 1227, Eugene, OR 97440.
Sackett, Jeffrey. Blood of the Impaler, Bantam, October, 1989, 340pp,
$3.95, 0-553-28183-6.
Straczynski, J. Michael. Tales from the New Twilight Zone, Bantam,
December, 1989, 255pp, $3.95, 0-553-28286-7.
Wagner, Karl Edward. Intensive Scare, DAW, January, 1990, 303pp, $3.95,
0-88677-402.0. Anthology.

Other

Panshin, Alexei & Cory. The World Beyond the Hill, Jeremy Tarcher,
685pp, $29.95, 0-87477-436-5.

Science Fiction

Allen, Roger McBride & Drake, David. The War Machine, Baen, November,
1989, 338pp, $3.95, 0-671-69845-1. Crisis of Empire 3.
Anderson, Poul. The Boat of a Million Years, Tor, Nov, 1989, 470pp,
19.95, 0-312-93199-9.
Attanasio, A.A. The Last Legends of Earth, Foundation, September, 1989,
368pp,18.95, 0-385-26392-9.
Bell, Clare, People of the Sky, Tor, October, 1989, 344pp, $18.95,
0-312-93131-X.
Benford, Gregory & Greenberg, Martin H. Alternate Heroes, Bantam,
January, 1990, 354pp, $4.50, 0-553-28279-4.
Benford, Gregory. Tides of Light, Bantam, October, 1989, 407pp, $4.50,
0-553-28214-X.
Bishop, Michael. No Enemy But Time, Bantam, October, 1989, 338pp, $4.95,
0-553-28187-9.
Boucher, Anthony. The Compleat Werewolf, Carroll&Craf, January, 1990,
256pp, $4.50, 0-88184-557-4
Brennert, Alan. Time and Chance, Tor, December, 1989, 278pp, $17.95,
0-312-93192-1.
Brust, Steven. Cowboy Feng's Space Bar and Grill, Ace, January, 1990,
224pp, $3.50, 0-441-11816-X.
Bujold, Lois McMaster. Borders of Infinity, Baen, October, 1989, 311pp,
$3.95, 0-671-69841-9.
Bull, Emma. Falcon, Ace, October, 1989, 281pp, 3.95, 0-441-22569-1.
DeChancie, John. Castle Kidnapped, Ace, November, 1989, 216pp, $3.50,
0-441-09408-2.
Dick, Philip K. Eye in the Sky, Collier, November, 1989, 255pp, $4.50,
0-02-031590-2.
Dillard, J.M. The Lost Years, Pocket, October, 1989, 307pp, $17.95,
0-671-68293-8.
Ecklar, Julia. The Kobayashi Maru, Pocket, December, 1989, 254pp, $4.50,
0-671-65817-5.
Effinger, George Alec. Author's Choice Monthly #1, Pulphouse, Box 1227,
Eugene, OR 97440.
Ferman, Edward L. The best from Fantasy & Science Fiction, St. Martin's,
September, 1989, 376pp, $18.95, 0-312-03293-5.
Franklin, Cheryl J. The Light in Exile, DAW, January, 1990, 334pp,
$3.95, 0-88677-417-9.
Friedman, Michael Jan. A Call to Darkness, Pocket, November, 1989,
274pp, $3.95, 0-671-68708-5
Gibson, William. Mona Lisa Overdrive, Bantam, December, 1989, 308pp,
$4.95, 0-553-28174-7.
Goldstein, Lisa. Author's Choice Monthly #3, Pulphouse Publishing. Box
1227, Eugene, OR 97440.
Greenberg, Martin H. Foundation's Friends, Tor, November, 1989, 403pp,
$19.95, 0-312-93174-3.
Greenberg, Martin H. The Diplomacy Guild, Avon, April, 1990, 257pp,
$3.95, 0-380-75751-6.
Gunn, James & Williamson, Jack. Star Bridge, Collier, November, 1989,
215pp, $4.50, 0-02-040881-1
Hinz, Christopher. Ash Ock, St. Martin's, October, 1989, 308pp, $18.95,
0-312-03291-9.
Ingrid, Charles. The Marked Man, DAW, December, 1989, 253pp, $3.95,
0-88677-396-2.
Jeter, K.W. Death Arms, St. Martin's Press, October, 1989, 183pp,
$14.95, 0-312-03321-4.
Klass, Judy. The Cry of the Onlies, Pocket, October, 1989, 255pp, $4.50,
0-671-68167-2.
Malzberg, Barry. Beyond Apollo, Carroll&Graf, November, 1989, 153pp,
$3.50, 0-88184-551-5.
Moorcock, Michael. The Fortress of the Pearl, Ace, October, 1989, 231pp,
$16.95, 0-441-19123-1.
Perry, Steve. The 97th Step, Ace, December, 1989, 294pp, $3.95,
0-441-58105-6.
Robinson, Kim Stanley. Escape From Kathmandu, Tor, November, 1989,
313pp,17.95, 0-312-93916-4.
Sargent, Pamela. Venus of Shadows, Bantam, January, 1990, 643pp, $4.95,
0-553-27058-3.
Sarrantonio, Al. Moonbane, Bantam, October, 1989, 196pp, $3.95,
0-553-28186-0.
Scotten, Cordell. Renegade, Ace, November, 1989, 178pp, $3.50,
0-441-73128-7. Robots and Aliens #2.
Silverberg, Robert. Project Pendulum, Bantam, 3.95, 0-553-28001-5.
Smith, Dean Wesley. Laying the Music to Rest, Questar, Nov, 1989, 195pp,
3.95, 0-445-20934-8
Steele, Alien. Orbital Decay, Nov 1989, 324pp, 3.95, 0-441-49851-5.
Stirling, S.M. Under the Yoke, Baen, October, 1989, 501pp, $3.95,
0-671-69843-5.
Stith, John. Redshift Rendezvous, Ace, June, 1990, 250pp, $3.50,
0-441-71445-6.
Sullivan, Tim. The Parasite War, December, 1989, Avon, 256pp, $3.50,
0-380-75550-5.
Tepper, Sheri S. Grass, Foundation, October, 1989, 426pp, $18.95,
0-385-26012-1.
Wagner, Karl Edward. Author's Choice Monthly 2, Pulphouse Publishing,
101pp, $10.00
Watson, Ian. Checkov's Journey, Carroll&Graf, October 1989, 183pp,
$16.95, 0-88184-523-X.
Watson, Ian. The Embedding, Carroll&Graf, January, 1990, 217pp, $3.95,
0-88184-554-X.
Wilhelm, Kate. Children of the Wind, St. Martin's, October, 1989, 263pp,
$16.95, 0-312-03303-6.
Williams, Walter Jon. Facets, Tor, January 1990, 208pp, $17.95,
0-312-85019-0.
Wilson, Robert Charles, Gypsies, Bantam, November, 1989, 311pp, $4.50,
0-553-28304-9.
Wolfe, Gene. Soldier of Arete, Tor, October, 1989, 354pp, $17.95,
0-312-93185-9.
Wolverton, Dave. On my way to paradise, Bantam, December, 1989, 521pp,
$4.95, 0-553-27610-7.
Zelazny, Roger. This Immortal, Baen, November, 1989, 216pp, $3.95,
0-671-69848-6.

Fanzines

Anvil #50, Charlotte Proctor, Ed. Irregular from 8325 7th Ave. South,
Birmingham, AL 35206.
Don-O-Saur #56, Don C. Thompson, 3735 W. 81st Place, Westminster, CO
80030-3919.
File 770 # 83. Mike Glyer, ed. 5 for $5.00 from 5828 Woodman Ave. #2,
Van Nuys, CA 91401
Fosfax, C/O FOSFA, Box 37281, Louisville, KY 40233-7281.
Inquirer. St. Louis SF. Society, Box 1058, St. Louis, MO 63188. Monthly
clubzine.
Mimosa 7. Dick and Nicki Lynch, Box 1270, Germantown, Md. 20874-0998
Odd #2. David Haugh. 556 N. 3rd St. Woodburn, OR 97071.
Optimistic Sturgeon #2. Dan'l Danehy-Oakes, ed. Quarterly, sort of, from
3215 Liberty Avenue, Alameda, CA 94501.
Pirate Jenny #4, Pat Mueller, 618 Westridge, Duncanville, TX 75116.
Renaissance Fan #7. Rosalind Malin and Dick Pilz. Quarterly from 2214 SE
53rd, Portland, OR 97215
Rune 80, Jeanne Mealy & David E. Romm, Box 8297 Lake Street Station,
Minneapolis, MN 55408.
Star Rover #2, Terry Gish, ed. From (SFA)**2, 467 Saratoga Ave. Suite
631, San Jose, CA 95128-1380.
The Plowman, Tony Scavetta, ed. 6 times a year, from Box 414, Whitby,
Ontario, Canada, L1N 5S4.
Thyme #77. LynC, ed. Australasian SF News Magazine. Box 4024, University
of Melbourne, Victoria, Australia, 3052
Trash Barrel Reviews. Donald Franson, 6543 Babcock, North Hollywood, CA
91606. Fanzine review fanzine.

------ End ------

Issue 26, Winter 1990 (part 7)

Electronic OtherRealms #26
Winter, 1990
Part 7 of 8

Copyright 1990 by Chuq Von Rospach
All Rights Reserved.

OtherRealms may be distributed electronically only in the original form and with copyrights, credits and return addresses intact.

OtherRealms may be reproduced in printed form only for your personal use.

No part of OtherRealms may be reprinted or used in any other
publication without permission of the author.

All rights to material published in OtherRealms hereby revert to the author.

Words of Wizdom
Reviews by Chuq Von Rospach
Copyright 1990 by Chuq Von Rospach

Good News from Outer Space
John Kessel
Tor, August, 1989, 402pp, $18.95, 0-312-93178-6.

Good News from Outer Space is a good book that's hard to discuss. In the near future, the country has devolved into a stagnant, dystopic shadow of current life. The U.S. has become a police state, with travel restricted, goods in short supply and the network information services spewing forth a high-tech version of the National Enquirer for the high-tech version of the semi-literate.

But is it? Or is it space aliens? George Eberhart is a reporter for HCR, one of the nations top sleaze-rags. He's also a Zombie, a suicide who has been illegally brought back to life. He stumbles onto a pattern inside the chaos that is ripping the country apart as it approaches the millennium. What else could it be but someone from space moving the earth along to Armageddon?

Is this really happening? Is this the ravings of an insane man? Both? Kessel's book has a rather frenetic, multi-threaded structure where lots of different, seemingly unrelated things are all happening in different places at the same time. I found the book occasionally confusing, sometimes frustrating and mostly engrossing. It's not an easy read, but I place it close to Dan Simmons' Phases of Gravity as one of the important books of 1989. It'll drive as many people crazy as it does entertain. [****]

Redshift Rendezvous
John E. Stith
Ace, June, 1990, $3.50, 0-441-71145-6, 250pp

John Stith has set himself a difficult task: to integrate the worlds of SF with the the mystery. He did this successfully with Deep Quarry, where a hard boiled detective has to solve a series of thefts on a remote planet. His new book, Redshift Rendezvous is both hard SF and action/suspense.

The acid test for a cross-genre work is to ask yourself if you could write the same story after removing one or the other of the genres. In Redshift's case, the answer is a strong no. Take out the science fiction and the story is impossible; take out the suspense and the story falls apart.

Jason Kraft is first officer of the ship Redshift, which takes advantage of the ability to change the speed of light to travel between the stars. On one trip nasty things begin to happen: a passenger apparently commits suicide, a crewman disappears. While investigating this, the ship is taken over by a group of people who want to use it to raid the treasury of a very rich planet. Even that, though, is just the setup for the serious problems Stith writes into the book.

The book's main flaw is that it suffers from a case of superhero protagonist complex. Jason is written in a mythic form. He's a superman, always in the right place at the right time. Also, because Jason is written to be so perfect, the rest of the cast seems to sit around waiting for Jason to do all the work. This will drive some readers crazy, but Stith is in good company -- Redshift Rendezvous reads very much like the Gil Hamilton stories by Larry Niven and should be considered required reading by anyone who enjoyed them. [****]

The Compleat Traveller in Black
John Brunner
Collier, $3.95, 0-02-3-720-9.

The new Collier Nucleus series of classic reprints answered one long quest of mine -- to finally get my hands on John Brunner's Traveller in Black stories. The Traveller in Black, a man with many names but a single nature, is a being put in place to help turn the tide from chaos to logic. He does nothing more but grant the wishes of those he meets -- reminding us that what we wish for and what we desire are many times very different.

What's fascinating about the stories is that little really happens -- and it happens in such a fascinating way that you don't really notice that not a whole lot is happening. The writing and story are so intriguing that it just draws you in and carries you along. It's a fascinating concept, wonderfully written and truly a pleasant way to spend a day or two. Highly recommended [*****]

The World Beyond the Hill: Science Fiction and the Quest for Transcendence Alexei and Cory Panshin Tarcher, 685pp, $29.95, 0-87477-436-5.

In The World Beyond the Hill, the Panshins have taken a close look at the field of SF. Noted critics for many years, this time they take a step back and help us try to understand what SF is, where it came from and where it's going.

This book isn't as critically rigorous as some of their other works, but instead is more personal and introspective, giving up the objective critical viewpoint for a more intense, subjectively persuasive one. It covers much the same time period (Frankenstein to current day) as Brian Aldiss' Trillion Year Spree, but is both less complete and more satisfying. The Panshins don't try to rationalize their point of views: this is what they believe, and you can agree or disagree.

Much of the time, you'll probably agree. Either way, you'll learn a lot about the field and the people in it. Highly recommended [****]

Grumbles from the Grave
edited by Virginia Heinlein
Del Rey, 274pp, $19.95, 0-345-36246-2

Grumbles from the Grave is a posthumous collection of some of Robert Heinlein's letters, edited by his wife Virginia. This is a book for Heinlein-ophiles, of which I happily declare myself.

And yet. And yet. Much as it was a pleasure to spend a few evenings with the Grand Old Man, I came away with mixed feelings. There is a lot of Heinlein here, but not the pieces I really wanted. I really wanted someone to do for Heinlein what Chapdelaine did for John Campbell -- and that is not this book. This is an appetizer, and I'm still hungry.

I want to see more of Heinlein's material made available, as complete and uncensored as possible. I also, selfishly, want to see someone do a biography of the Heinleins -- not just Robert, but Ginny, too. I've learned just enough to realize that you can't learn what you need to know by studying Robert; because the picture is incomplete.

I'm being selfish here. I learned much about the field from the writing's of Robert Heinlein (and not a little about life in general). I have much left to learn from him. Heinlein is not someone who should pass quietly from view. [***+]

Borders of Infinity
Lois McMaster Bujold
Baen, $3.95, 0-671-69841-9.

Bujold has written another book of stories about Miles Vorkosigan, Heir to the throne, Officer in the Imperial Navy and Supreme Commander of a mercenary fleet that also happens to be a secret arm of the first two organizations. He is, on top of that, a dwarf in a society that is fighting to break itself free of a reign of genetic murders, where those that are 'different' are killed to protect the gene pool.

Vorkosigan's purpose in life is to get deep in trouble and then figure out some way out. Borders of Infinity is not a novel -- it contains three novellas with a very weak bridge attempting to tie them together. Two of them appeared in Analog and the third in the anthology Freelancers so they may seem familiar to some. Despite that, this series is a lot of fun and an enjoyable way to spend a couple of evenings. [***+]

The Boat of a Million Years
Poul Anderson
Tor, 466pp, $19.95, 0-312-93199-9.

Gads, what a frustrating book The Boat of a Million Years was. The first major SF work by Poul Anderson in years, and it came this close to pulling it off.

It's the story of a small group of humans who are, by some quirk of fate, immortal. They can be killed, but they will not die. The first two thirds of the book is a lovingly crafted, emotionally powerful trip through human history, carefully researched and wonderfully presented. You really get to know these people and learn to care for them -- and at the same time get a free trip through humanity's past that is intriguing, enlightening and engrossing.

Unfortunately, the rest of the book doesn't hold up. There's a relatively short bridge section during 'today' that bogs down with a massive pot of message about societies ills and how to fix them. I don't mind being fed a political view, but I much prefer a spoon to a fire hose. Following this bridge, the final third of the book is set in the future and Anderson gives us society as the pot full of message would have it be, ending up in a sterile, machine-run dystopia that's lifeless and unpleasant. Our immortals then build a space ship and head off to parts unknown, meet some aliens, argue with each other, and end up doing a bunch of things that I felt were arbitrary (and, ultimately, meaningless) until they faded away off the last page with nothing significant resolved. They came, they watched society fall apart, they left, they dinked around. End of book.

It's as if you took one of Quinn Yarbro's St. Germain books and then stuck part of Robert Forward's Flight of the Dragonfly on the end. The two had very little to do with each other and the latter part simply meant that by the time I was done, all of the enjoyment and thrill I'd had reading the book had dissipated, leaving a slightly sour taste in my mouth and a wish for the kind of book this could have been, rather than the one I got. It is not, by any means, a bad book -- just not the book it should be. [***-]

Short Takes:

Knight of Shadows
Roger Zelazny
Morrow, $14.95, 0-668-08726-4.

The fourth book in the second Amber trilogy continues the story begun so far, answering some questions and raising others. When you get down to basics, Amber is a soap opera, with a bunch of people who don't like each other stuck together in ways that will generate actions. It's a good romp, enjoyable mind candy, and I'm going to look forward to reading it as long as Zelazny continues to write Amber books that he seems to be interested in writing. The one really cute twist here is when you realize that the long-term fight between Amber and Chaos over domination of everything is really only one skirmish in an even bigger battle. [***+]

Soldier of Arete
Gene Wolfe
Tor, 354pp, $17.95, 0-312-93185-9

Soldier of Arete is the sequel to Soldier of the Mists, a continuation of the story of Latro, a man touched by gods who loses his memory every day, forcing him to write everything down so he can remember what he is.

I don't think Gene Wolfe is capable of writing a bad book, but Solder of Arete left me somewhat disappointing. It's the middle book of a series and suffered somewhat from the stagnation that happens when a book is a bridge between a beginning and an end. Another thing that bothered me in Arete was that the gods, who were there but offstage start taking active roles, and I preferred the story when they were maybe there and maybe not (just like our gods) and not facts of life -- it shifted the book from it's historical aspects to it's fantastical aspects, and I think it weakened the impact significantly. [***]

Blood of the Impaler
Jeffrey Sackett
Bantam, $3.95, 0-553-28183-6.

I'm a sucker for vampire stories. I love them. Blood of the Impaler is, according to the material, a sequel to Bram Stoker's classic Dracula. Sackett has done a lot of research and thought about vampires and Stoker's version, but the story is disappointing and never gels. It didn't even have to be a sequel, really -- any vampire could have done as well as the Count. It could have been much more, and should have if it wanted to hold its own against the book it's trying to follow. As it is, I found myself wishing I'd spent the time reading the original again. [**-]

No Prisoners!
Reviews by Laurie Sefton
Copyright 1990 by Laurie Sefton

Here's another axiom for the file:

There is no one correct interpretation of a mythical entity.

Why is this important? How many books have you read lately that have had cute elves, doughty dwarves, standard issue dragons, and casting central trolls? Gets to be a bit of a bore, doesn't it? Besides, you've already got a good idea who is going to have which character traits (how Jungian!) and a pretty good idea who is going to be alive at the end of the story. What is much more interesting is when a writer makes a major twist on a archetype; turning a cliche into a new and fresh idea.

Let's look at elves. To the Tolkien emulators, elves are outrageously beautiful, exceptionally good (except for those who are exceptionally bad), and morally superior. These attributes tend to be taken out to the nth degree, where they approach a rather sticky self-parody.

Alamut [****+]
Judith Tarr
Foundation, 1989, 470 pp, $8.95

Alamut explodes these notions. Alamut is in the same universe as her Hound and Falcon trilogy, which dealt with the elven folk in the late 12th century. Tarr's elves are immortal, and that is as close as they come to the stereotype. Prince Aidan can be cold, merciless, and at times amoral. Morgiana, the other 'elf', is a half-wild assassin for the local warlord. Both are immersed in the cold loneliness that being an immortal in a mortal world can bring.

There isn't any magic in this story, in the usual spellcasting sense. The elves are all gifted with certain abilities; shapechanging, telepathy, and teleportation. But none of these are preceded by any beseeching or calling of higher powers. In fact, the story itself could have been written with mortal characters, but it is the immortality of Aidan and Morgiana that provides a focus. While Aidan is searches for his nephew's killer, his interactions with his mortal relatives define who he is and why he is. Morgiana's few moments of peace with her friends sharpens the sting of the isolation she has from humanity.

Alamut can be read on the surface as a historical fantasy, but the search and discovery of two unique individuals is what makes Alamut one of the best I've read this year.

Strands of Starlight    [***+]
Gael Baudino
Signet, 1989, 371 pp, $4.50

Strands of Starlight is a closer interpretation of classic elves that Alamut. Baudino, however, doesn't fall into the trap of making the elves either Sidhe-like or diabetes-inducing. The elves are more of a example of what humans could be, if they really tried, and that is one of the main themes of the story. In the broadest sense, the story deals with Miriam, a human with healing powers, and her revenge on those who beat and raped her. Miriam finds a group of elves after the last time she is tortured. The elves represent everything that is good, and the humans who come into contact with them--well, it seems to wear off.

Miriam asks the help of the elves in her revenge, and the help she is granted is a double-edged gift. Miriam is brought to see humanity in a different light, but not without retaining the ability to exact vengeance. The elves do know how to wrest payment for transgressions.

If there is any fault with the book, it's that it appears that the author's politics come peeking through. There weren't any evil women to balance the evil men in the story. The women tended to either be victims, future victims, or the antithesis of a stereotypical brutish man. The men in power are nasty to the degree that they become stereotypical; sometimes it seems that most of the men in the 14th century were entirely occupied with who they would next rape.

And one small puzzlement; the elves in Strands of Starlight foresee a future where the elven folk will come back; namely 20th century Colorado. This refers to a short story by Baudino that appeared in 1985. Does this mean we'll see an update to the story, or possibly a full novel? I hope it does.

Having left elves behind, let's look at intelligent, telepathic, non-humanoid entities. Or "the animals know what we're thinking." I looked it up in my Thesaurus, and telepathy has nothing to do with morality.

Grass   [*****]
Sherri S. Tepper
Foundation,1989,426 pp, $18.95

The animals in Sheri S. Tepper's Grass certainly haven't made the connection. In fact, a large subset of them have managed to enslave the nobility of the planet Grass, and the most interesting part is that the nobility doesn't know. They think that the "mounts" and "hounds" appeared for their convenience, so they could renew the hunt.

Tepper addresses a number of societal stereotypes in this story; from the overweaning nobility, who are so blinded by their alleged superiority that they don't realize that they are being used as cannon fodder by the telepaths; to the Catholic church and its role in keeping societal stratification; to the existence of a theocracy and its incipient rot. And yes, there are some good telepaths to balance out the evil, but they aren't romping out of the woods to serve humanity either.

Tepper's heroine, Marjorie Westriding Yrarier, is a strong, self-reliant character who only needed to free herself from her doubts, and the reinforcement of her captivity by societal mores. Her move to independence mirrors the unraveling of the horrible secret on Grass. Tepper also provides the best scenes I have read; after the heroine saves the known universe, she is patted on the head by her confessor, essentially told that it's good she got all this out of her system, and now would she please go back to her sneering adulterer of a husband, like a good little wife. You can guess what the answer is.

The Renegades of Pern   [***+]
Anne McCaffrey
Del Rey, 1989, 384 pp $19.95

Renegades of Pern is the latest in the Pern series by Anne McCaffrey. I have found that either you love these stories or hate them. I happen to find them delightful. In Renegades, McCaffrey takes a look at the holdless population of Pern, mostly itinerant workers and tradesmen, who don't belong to any Hold. Many of these are descendents of the original Gypsies who came to Pern, as chronicled in Dragonsdawn. Others have been thrown out of the Hold for one infraction or another. None are protected when the threadfall begins.

While the story is supposed to be about Aramina, a traveler who can talk to all the dragons, it actually weaves in and out of a number of plots. Among these are the story of Thella, whose motivation was to not be a mere wife of a holder, but a holder herself. Losing her unprotected hold in Threadfall, she turns criminal. This is interwoven with the discoveries in the south continent, and the people of Pern starting to realize who they are and who their ancestors were. The scene of Master Harper Robinton querying the voice-activated computer in one of the abandoned ships is priceless.

There are a few flaws in the book, mainly due to what appears to be sloppy copy editing. Scenes and descriptions change slightly from one chapter to the next. However, Renegades is an excellent addition to the Pern collection.

Imperial Lady   [****+]
Andre Norton & Susan Shwartz
Tor, 1989, 293pp $17.95

Imperial Lady doesn't have a telepathic animal in it per se, unless you count a fox woman who appears throughout the story. There is enough magic and suspense, however, to keep you occupied. Norton and Shwartz have set this tale in Han dynasty China and what is now Mongolia. I like the idea of using imperial China for a background; most of western Europe has been explored, and China has equally, if not greater, areas and folklore to explore. While there are motifs and legends with a common base, there is a freshness in the interpretation.

Imperial Lady's heroine Silver Snow has a lot in common with Tepper's heroine. Both are strong women who have been shackled by their culture's restraints. Silver Snow doesn't have to leave earth to find her destiny, though. She is offered as a peace bargaining chip by the Chinese emperor to a Mongol tribal leader. There is the usual conflict between the tribal members and what they at first perceive as a too finely bred Chinese noblewoman. This is overshadowed quickly by the raw jealousy of the tribal Shamaness for Silver Snow. Silver Snow's dealings with the Shamaness as well as the others in the tribe are fascinating. Silver Snow is smart, resourceful, and casts off prejudices as she learns the truth. Imperial Lady is a superb adventure.

OtherRealms back issues available through TAFF only

TAFF (The Trans-Atlantic Fan Fund) is having a benefit sale of fanzines and other items. To get the list of available items, send a SASE with $.45 in postage or an IRC to Robert Lichtman, P.O. Box 30, Glen Ellen, CA 95442.

I mention this because TAFF is the only source for back issues of OtherRealms. He currently has the following issues: 14, 15, 19, 20 and 22. They're $3.00 each (and add $1.00 per order for postage). He will also soon have a very few of #24 and #25.

The Trans-Atlantic Fan Fund is an organization that raises money to help send fans (chosen by open election) from the U.S. overseas to the U.K (and vice versa) to visit a major convention, generally exchange cultures and come back and write fanzines about the experiences. It is one of the ways fandom tries to open up its doors and explore other cultures, and is well worth supporting. All OtherRealms back issues get donated to TAFF.

An International SF Convention On the Volga

Volgograd, USSR, September 8-14, 1991

SF Club "The Wind of Time" and the Youth Association ATOM announce the establishing of the "Volga-con" Organizing Committee.

Volga-Con has in store for you:

o Seven unforgettable days on the Volga.

o Meeting old and new friends. Conversations from morning till night and all night long.

o Talks, discussions, lectures and meetings with
Cyberpunks on the Volga
The Young Wave in the Soviet SF
The Concise History of the Soviet SF and Fandom

o A mini-con for SF Clubs of the Volga Region

o Various Poetry Rounds, Folk-song performances, Story-telling contests, SF Stories Competition, an Auction and a Fancy-Dress Ball with a great Universe Banquet to crown it all.

We are inviting 300 official guests to the Volga-Con, including Guests of Honour from many lands.

We also welcome SF fans, writers, painters, critics, journalists, editors and publishers -- all people who love SF and Fantasy.

We do believe that your participation will make the Volga-con brighter and more fascinating.

Please, do not hesitate to contact us for further information. Our address for applications and inquiries is:

Boris A. Zavgorodny

Volgograd-66, Poste Restante,

USSR, Volga-con

Phones: 34-74-62, 34-74-64, 34-44-09, 34-86-56

------ End ------

Issue 26, Winter 1990 (part 8)

Electronic OtherRealms #26
Winter, 1990
Part 8 of 8

Copyright 1990 by Chuq Von Rospach
All Rights Reserved.

OtherRealms may be distributed electronically only in the original form and with copyrights, credits and return addresses intact.

OtherRealms may be reproduced in printed form only for your personal use.

No part of OtherRealms may be reprinted or used in any other
publication without permission of the author.

All rights to material published in OtherRealms hereby revert to the author.

Your Turn: Letters to OtherRealms

Dean R. Lambe

While I sense no danger that OtherRealms will become a fractious letterzine, My Turn in issue #25 is welcome. Especially so, since I heard the thud of my name dropped no less than three times therein. Feedback, even critical feedback tells me that I actually reached out and goosed someone between the neurons.

Two of the gentlemen raised questions that merit reply: Actually, Martin Morse Wooster, I believe it was Mr. Heinlein who first noted that writers compete for their potential readers' beer money, as do many other sources of entertainment. And yes, I do have very expensive tastes in beer, but a visit to any airport bar these days will demonstrate that even stainless-steel-suds-factory swill may be as overpriced as a hardcover pot boiler. Real beer, say an freshly imported Czech Pilsner, could easily run through an $18.95 cover price.

Gary Farber, yes, you are correct. I did overreact in my reviews of the Circuit trilogy by Melinda M. Snodgrass. By the third volume, I was so disappointed with the technical, scientific, and logical errors that could have been avoided easily, and the blatant sexual stereotyping of the female characters, that I lapsed into gratuitous sexism myself. I didn't mean to suggest that women who graduate from law school shouldn't write science fiction. I must remember not to explode the next time characters hold laser weapon battles through smoke screens and have instantaneous radio conversations between Ceres and Earth. I owe an apology to Ms. Snodgrass and her editors. I am pleased to note that in reviews of her first fantasy novel, Ms. Snodgrass is credited with accurate historical research, and that she has found joy in writing for television.

Fortunately, I'm only writing reviews, not SF criticism, so these lapses don't happen often.

Joel Rosenberg

Tom Maddox's letter is a fine demonstration of the value of Occam's Razor, the principle that one ought prefer simple explanations to multiplying complexities beyond credibility.

It should be relatively easy to decide that Bruce Bethke hasn't changed the name of his novel, Cyberpunk[1], for the reasons that Bethke has stated with an enviable, if tired, patience: because Bethke invented the term; because Bethke's use of his term was original; and because Bethke's published use of it[2] predates any expropriation of it by, for, and about Gibson and the other members of the New! Improved! Wave[3]--rather than as an attempt to ride on the putative coattails of "writers such as Gibson and Sterling", the New! Improved! Wavers, or as they'd prefer it, The Movement[4].

The complexities of Maddox's position--that Bethke has kept his own title out of a desire to capitalize on the success the cyberpunkies[5]--are fairly steep.

One would have to concede that "writers such as Gibson and Sterling" are successful[6], and that Bethke would either have anticipated such success back in 1980, when he wrote Cyberpunk, the story that became part of the novel of the same name, or lucked into the connection, and then decided to hitch a ride on Neuromancer's coattails--which again seems unlikely.

After all, if Tom Maddox can't, why would Bruce Bethke be able to?

Notes:

1. I've read it, by the way--it's one fine coming-of-age story. I'm certainly going to give a quote for the book, and am hoping that Jim Baen will let me do an introduction.

2. In Amazing SF, at the time the oldest continually published SF magazine.

3. That term is mine. Use it if you'd like, but credit it; I'm less patient than Bruce is.

4. Since Maddox is fond of cheap shots, I'm sure he won't mind me pointing out the Freudian implications of writers going around the country talking about how firm their movements are.

5. See footnote 3.

6. Gibson is successful, and Sterling perhaps marginally so, but not the rest. By my casual count, the New!Improved!Wavers have published a couple dozen novels among them. Out of the lot, there's been one very successful novel, Neuromancer, now in something like its 15th printing. Of the rest...well, a couple of Sterling's books have gone back for a second printing, but that's about it. Of the cyberminorpunkies--some of whom are really quite promising writers--as far as I'm aware, none of their books have achieved even the minimal success that would have resulted in a reprinting.

This is a Movement?

By way of comparison, just in Minneapolis, there are half a dozen SF writers who have been around about as long as the New! Improved! Wavers and have been more successful than any of the cyberminorpunkies.

Lawrence Watt-Evans

Has Thomas Maddox ever read any of Bruce Bethke's fiction?

I ask because the snide comments about Bethke's "affinity for the anti-literary right wing of sf" sure don't fit anything I've read under Bethke's byline. Cyberpunk itself, the original story, is hardly right-wing or militaristic, nor are any of the other Bethke stories I've read.

I think Maddox has missed Bethke's whole point, which is that he created the word "cyberpunk" -- not by accident, but quite deliberately -- and he's understandably resentful that a group he is not associated with has appropriated it without so much as a by-your-leave, by way of Gardner Dozois, and altered its meaning, excluding him. Dozois read the story in manuscript and acknowledges it was Bethke's coinage.

It's his word, dammit!

Hell, from what I've read and heard, several of the "cyberpunk" writers don't even like the word, so why not let Bethke have it back?

Maddox accuses Bethke of trying to cash in on the success of the mirrorshades writers, but has it occurred to him that part of that success is stolen from Bethke? The name "cyberpunk" is catchy, it's attention-getting -- and it's Bethke's. Why shouldn't he get some of the benefits? Why is he expected to sit back and quietly watch while his invention is used as a selling point for a lot of stuff he doesn't even like?

And what's really funny is Maddox's last line -- "I'm absolutely certain that no one will have any difficulty at all distinguishing (Bethke's) writing from Bill Gibson's or Bruce Sterling's or, for that matter, from that of anyone who has been known as a cyberpunk writer, myself included."

Why is it funny?

Because if I had to name one writer whose style most resembles Bethke's, out of all the hundreds I've ever read, I'd have named Tom Maddox.

Harry Warner, Jr.

Writing a loc for a publication which is mostly reviews is always difficult but I think I found enough comment hooks to manage it. In general, I was pleased with the near-perfect typography and the fact that you didn't waste lots of space while utilizing the smallish typeface. My eyes aren't too capable nowadays but I don't mind struggling with small type when it's needed for financial reasons and when the editor doesn't waste more space than the typeface saves in huge margins, 24-point quotations of pertinent messages on each page, and other forest-decimating extravagances.

Your readership survey demonstrated graphically the biggest change in fannish behavior since I first became active. When I was a neofan, the prozines were all-supreme as reading matter for us. In my teens, I could have believed that spaceships still wouldn't be exceeding the speed of light by the time I was an old man, but I could never have imagined that only four per cent of a sampling of fans would be readers of Amazing by 1989. Of course, the showing of the prozines would be even worse if such a survey were taken elsewhere in fandom, at a Worldcon for instance. I suspect that half of the individuals who attend the biggest conventions are not even aware that prozines exist. Material in fanzines about prozines today probably doesn't total more than three or four dozen pages a year, excluding nostalgia pieces about the past and news notes in the semi-prozines.

I'm glad to find you using an occasional review of older, out-of-print books. Probably not more than five percent of all the good science fiction ever written is currently available in bookstores or newsstands and there's no reason why the great majority of it should go unmentioned in fanzines and semi-prozines just because it's out of print.

I share your skepticism about the ability of a fellow to get along so readily in a past age or an alternate universe or whatever. You mentioned several of the major problems, like the language and garments. But there are many others. Health, for instance: I suspect that a modern individual wouldn't have enough vaccination or built-in immunity to survive very long a few centuries in the past because of diseases and viruses that aren't in existence or are very rare today, not to mention the question of whether the time traveler could survive the types of medicine that were used in the past. Foot problems: hardly anyone today outside Third World nations does the amount of walking that the typical person did before mechanical propulsion of transportation, and the shoes in use a few generations back were much harder on the feet than today's footwear. Childbirth, reading by candlelight, jobs that required 14 or 16 hours of hard manual labor daily, and many other problems are usually ignored in stories about magical switches to another time or reality.

I can always nod approvingly whenever anyone says nice things about the reissue of a Fredric Brown book, of course, which happened near the start of #25. The review of The Singing reawakened a mental struggle that has happened several times, my effort to remember if there was a Theron Raines in fandom who was quite prominent back in the late 1940s or 1950s. I know the first name was Theron, but for the life of me I can't find any source of information to confirm or dissipate my semi-memory that the last name was Raines. The fan I'm thinking about lived in Arkansas, was more sensible and wiser than most fans of that period, and I've been wondering if he could have become a mainstream writer after gafiating from fandom. I hope the reprint of The Thief of Bagdad will convince people who think novelizations of movies are a recent invention that Hollywood was inspiring them during the silent era.

I also liked Elizabeth Moon's plain words about the way the literary establishment does its thing nowadays. She doesn't mention one aspect of the situation that particularly annoys me, the way that learned analyses of current fantasy and science fiction discuss at length the possible significance of this or that matter, when it would be so easy to pick up the telephone and ask the author what he or she meant in that paragraph.

I think I prefer to find reviews by an individual like you or Charles de Lint grouped together. It's a little easier to read successive reviews without abrupt changes in writing style and it's possible to judge the individual's particular preferences and ideas better when a whole group of reviews can be gulped down in succession. In Charles' section, I was happy to learn about the resumption of the Robert E. Howard books by Donald M. Grant, even though I'm not an all-out enthusiast of Howard's writings.

Dan'l Danehy-Oakes also gladdens my heart by his plain talk about the sanitizing and glamorizing of whores that is so popular with writers of books and scripts just now. If only some reviewers would do the same thing for all these books that purport to describe the fine old time the characters have in bars where they relate stories to one another, with never anyone going out and raping a woman from the effects of liquor or getting into a fight while drunk and shooting a companion dead or failing to show up one evening because of having dropped dead from liver cancer.

Martin Morse Wooster

Thanks for OtherRealms #25. I thought the best part of the issue was Gary Farber's letter and Chuq's response to it. Criticism is not that hard. You don't need a Ph.D. or decades of book reading to write it. I suspect there are many readers of OtherRealms who have read as much sf as Damon Knight and James Blish read when they were active as critics, and who have been interested in fanzines as long as Knight and Blish were. (Remember, most of The Issue at Hand and In Search of Wonder were published in fanzines.) I suspect the problem you have with writing "criticism" is that you (and others) feel that criticism is something you have to strain and sweat over; for me, at any rate, this is not true. Good criticism is like all writing -- if you set your goals high enough, you will eventually produce useful and important work.

One general suggestion for your reviewers is to avoid what I call "bag-of-Cheetos" comments, as in "I've read 5,271,009 books of (favorite junk form of reading) and X's book is just as tasty as all those other junk books I've read." Granted, some authors produce enjoyable work of no literary merit; David Eddings, for example, produces well-crafted, enjoyable entertainments of no lasting consequence. But reviewers should encourage authors to aim as high as they can; if you praise an author for turning out undistinguished assembly-line product, that's the literary equivalent of praising a bag of Cheetos or a Big Mac for being just as good as other hamburgers or snack foods. Writers shouldn't be just as good as their competitors; they should be better.

Another critical pitfall is introduced by M. Elayn Harvey in her article. Her initial premise is sound; the great works of the 1940's and 1950's should be reinterpreted and critiqued as often as possible. But by arguing that Fury, The Demolished Man, and The Green Hills of Earth are failures solely because the characters do not fit the sexual stereotypes she deems acceptable is the worst sort of reductionism. If the characters in these books seem unreal, that's a perfectly valid critique provided that Harvey gave examples of these characters' alleged misbehavior. And by ignoring the ideas and issues raised in these books, Harvey pretends that the authors were less serious--and less important--than they are. (And how does Harvey know that characters in the 21st century will not act in a manner similar to 1940s? Does she have access to a time machine?)

The best reviewer of the issue, by the way, was Jeremy Crampton. I've never read Crampton before, but I like his style and technique. I look forward to reading more of his writing in the future.

Brian Lumley

I don't know if I agree with all OtherRealms' reviews, or even that I agree with everything Rick Kleffel says in his reviews of my books specifically; but that's not a complaint and it shouldn't be reckoned that Rick's thoughts displease me. On the contrary, they do in the main please me, for they make it clear that I achieved my objective: which was to entertain!

Actually, what with Rick's and the reviews of other Necroscope readers--plus the feedback I got in America -- I feel pretty sure I'm on the right track in re "entertaining". Certainly I did some serious book signing this time around, and my positions in the horror bestseller list in the latest Mystery Scene look pretty good to me: out of the Top Ten, 2nd, 6th and 7th places respectively for The Source, Wamphyri, and Necroscope!

Over here in UK, the 1st British (Grafton) edition of The Source came out about the same time as TOR's edition and went out of print in six to seven weeks! Necroscope is due for its 4th printing, and Wamphyri its 3rd. But if I'm pleased with all of this, maybe you guys should be too; for it would seem to prove that someone on your team knows how to pick winners, right?

Except...see, I'm not complaining...but if only Rick hadn't made me: "England's King of B Movie Terror!" I mean, can't I just be a half-decent writer, who every now and then likes to let his readers know it isn't real, it's not happening, they can start to breathe again?

But on the other hand ... aw, what the hell! If I can't stand the smell, what am I doing with my head up this corpse, right? I guess you guys will just have to carry on writing your reviews your way, and I'll continue to write my books my way.

But don't expect me to apologize if, every now and then as you turn the pages, suddenly you smile...

David Thayer

The Hugo controversy is not a situation we can simply forget and move on. To do that is to invite a recurrence. Amid all the regrettable fingerpointing is a sincere effort to change the loopholes in the rules. Even if the culprits this year were to confess, the conditions which lead to the controversy would remain unchanged. It would catch others in the middle like it did to you this year.

What did you do to Peggy Ranson's cover art? It looks like you scanned it into a computer with faded memory. The cover is washed out compared to a good copy of the original.

Inside, I really liked your extensive use of filler art. I particularly admired some of the title art.

[[The Hugo problem is not something to be forgotten, but I want to get beyond mindless rehashings and factless finger-pointing. There are only a few people who know what really happened. The people who did it, obviously, and perhaps some people involved in Noreascon. Neither are talking, and everything else is speculation. We may never know for sure who did what, and I'm not sure at this point it matters.

I agree that things need to be done to fix the situation. I supported the proposal to the Business Meeting to restrict nominations to members of record on December 31. This keeps people from sending in ballots and checks at the same time, and will help guarantee that ballots can't be placed in the names of others or mailed from non-existant addresses. That won't solve the problem, but it makes it harder to stuff a ballot box without being caught. I don't know what else to do that wouldn't significantly screw up the nominating and voting in the process, and we want to avoid cures that are worse than the disease. We have enough problem with low voter turnouts on the awards that I don't want to make it harder for people to vote.

The real answer for the Hugos is to figure out a way to get enough people nominating and voting that stuffing the box is simply too expensive. When 20 or 30 nominations can get you on the ballot, I don't think you can come up with a way to protect the ballot from the motivated entrepreneur.

As to what happened to the cover, I don't know. It definitely did wash out, although everything else in the issue reproduced quite nicely in my opinion. It also wasn't washed out in the draft copies I did, so it wasn't the scanner itself, but some tweak I made late in the layout process. Why it only seems to happen to the cover, I don't know, but this is the second time a cover has reproduced poorly for no good reason when the rest of the issue was normal. It really is a wonderful cover, and while the reproduction was okay, it didn't begin to do it justice. sigh. Just when you think you have things under control.... -- chuq]]

B.Ware

I liked OtherRealms 25. Although you claim to be well stocked with art work, I thought 25 could have used more. There was too much "gray space" for even the well-attired eye to bear. The art I'm sending includes scantily attired subjects which should be viewed by the naked eye. I'm doing this for several reasons. All great artists are required to do "figure studies". I'm not a great artist yet, and I think it's because I haven't done any figure studies. Also, I have been assumed by several people to be one of David Thayer's/Teddy Harvia's personas. I am not. This art should prove it. Maybe it will confuse me with Brad Foster, who does "figure studies" professionally. At least he's won a Hugo.

Both you and Thayer confused "spell checkers" with "spelling checkers." Spell checkers are, of course, software for witches, warlocks, and wizards of the computer age. Spell checkers do include specialized spelling checkers which do for incantations what conventional spelling checkers do for word processing.

It's particularly intriguing to me that you and your co-editor work for Apple. I was beginning to think it was staffed by fictitious persona (like Reader's Digest). I'm a Macintosh devotee, but Apple itself is rather aloof if not snobbish. I bought a Mac+ for home from an authorized dealer who didn't tell me about the Educator Buy Program discounts even though my wife discussed using it for teacher related activities and we paid for it with a credit card issued by the National Education Association. When we found out a few months later that we were qualified for the discounts, neither the dealer nor Apple acknowledged that we'd been had (Apple is not responsible for its dealers, etc.). I like what I can do with the Mac, but I look to third party sources for hardware.

[[Last issue was grayer than I wanted. Because of the amount of material that had piled up, forcing me to make the text as dense as I could to the issue at a publishable size (60 pages equaled 4.93 ounces; to take it to 62 pages would have cost me another $60 just in postage, which I wanted to avoid). So I squished and scrunched a bit. There were also some copying problems, some remnants of earthquake-related copier unhappiness that muddied it out some more. This issue should be somewhat more open and easier to read (I hope) without those obnoxious little dropouts where the copier stripped some of the toner off the originals when I wasn't looking.

Also, I do agree with you on "spell" vs. "spelling" checkers -- unfortunately, it seems that the jargon in the computer industry has adopted the former, bad English or not (since when have computer people really worried about English, though? We've created some really horrible jargon and hacked our way through the language over the years). Just because it's in general usage doesn't make it right however, and I'll do my part in trying to stomp it out.

Re: Apple. Problems with Apple dealers. It's a problem. I've been hit by it before (and before I went to work for Apple, I also did a lot of third party shopping) and I do most of my shopping with either mail order or with dealers I know I can trust (who aren't necessarily Apple dealers; the folks at ComputerWare are what all Apple dealers ought to be like, except they aren't authorized and only sell non-Apple marked products). The dealer network and the 90 day warranty are Apple's two big black eyes in the field -- but I feel Apple realizes this and is looking for ways to better police dealers who don't take proper care of their customers. I hope it happens, too]]

We also heard from: Sheryl Birkhead, Chris Friend, David Thayer, Ray Feist, Mike Resnick, Richard P. King, Laurie Mann, Bucky Montgomery, Heidi Lyshol, Bruce Bethke, Steven Sawicki, joan hanke-woods, Jack McDevitt, Chris Lacher, Andy Behrens

Subscriptions

OtherRealms is available for The Usual or by arranged trade. You can also spend money on it: $2.85 each or $11 for a four issue subscription. We do not currently offer paid subscriptions outside of the United States.

Artwork

We're currently well stocked with art. Submissions are welcome, but we generally use only one or two pieces per artist in an issue and I don't like to hold art in inventory for more than a year. Please keep this in mind before submitting your entire portfolio.

Submissions

OtherRealms publishes reviews of Horror, Fantasy, Science Fiction, and related books.

Authors are solicited to discuss their work in the Behind the Scenes section. This series allows you to describe the background and research that went into your book and the things that make it special to you.

SF, Horror, author interviews and special items should be submitted to Chuq. Fantasy, Behind the Scenes and Science Fact articles should be submitted to Laurie.

Please query on everything except reviews. Please include a SASE if you want a response.

Letters

We solicit your feedback and comments for the letter column. Letters will be considered for publication unless otherwise requested.

To contact us

Chuq Von Rospach
chuq@apple.com
CompuServe: 73317,635
GEnie: CHUQ
Delphi: CHUQ

Laurie Sefton
lsefton@apple.com
CompuServe: 74010,3542
Delphi: LSEFTON

35111-F Newark Blvd.
Suite 255
Newark, CA 94560

OtherRealms is published quarterly in January, April, July and October.

Deadline for the Next Issue: March 15

OtherRealms
Science Fiction and Fantasy in Review
Issue 26, Winter, 1990

Editors:Chuq Von Rospach
Laurie Sefton

Contributing Editors: Dan'l Danehy-Oakes, Charles de Lint, Rick Kleffel,
Dean R. Lambe, Lawrence Watt-Evans and Alan Wexelblat

Copyright 1990 by Chuq Von Rospach All Rights Reserved.

OtherRealms may be distributed electronically only in the original form and with copyrights, credits and return addresses intact.

OtherRealms may be reproduced in printed form only for your personal use.

No part of OtherRealms may be reprinted or used in any other publication without permission of the author.

All rights to material published in OtherRealms hereby revert to the author.

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