REVISITED: The Cloak & the Fox: The Green Knight Movie Review

(Originally posted August 9, 2023 by Isaac Payne)

I’m a big fan of Arthurian fantasy books and movies. I’ve been fascinated with the genre ever since I was a kid. But now that I’m older, my interest has shifted from the big sword-fights and knights on horseback to the intricacies of storytelling, and how current writers are bending the genre.

Arthurian legend is such a rich bank of subject matter, because a lot of the stories already vary in how they’re told. Some people take Le Mort d’Arthur by Thomas Mallory as gospel, and others are fans of T.H. White’s The Once and Future King.

I even took a stab at bending the genre with my story “Esclados the Red,” which follows a little-mentioned knight on his journey of self-discovery and acceptance with his sexuality. It was a fun story to write, and I was exhilarated to be writing in such a large—and loved—genre.

The Green Knight movie doesn’t go quite as far to bend the genre, but it certainly provides a fresh take on the centuries-old story of Sir Gawain.  

The Green Knight Movie

The Green Knight film was released in theaters on July 30th, 2021. The film was written and directed by David Lowery, whose other work includes movies like Ain’t Them Bodies SaintsPete’s Dragon, and The Old Man & the Gun.

The Green Knight stars Dev Patel as Gawain, and is based on the 14th-century chivalric romance, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight.

Sir Gawain and the Green Knight is by far one of the most popular stories in the Arthurian universe, and Lowery’s film was quite faithful to the source material in terms of plot.

But the movie really shines when it comes to the visual elements.

The Big Orange Cloak

Visually, the movie is stunning. I’ll give it that.

It alternates between very dark scenes inside foggy forests and dim castle halls, to bright yellow and green forests. The contrast is astounding, and the coloring was certainly something Lowery emphasized.

Speaking of color and contrast, the best example of this is Gawain’s big orange-ish cloak. Even when Gawain is trekking across dark landscapes, his orange cloak still sticks out, providing a pop of color to on otherwise drab scene.

Dev Patel as Gawain
Photo from The Los Angeles Times

There’s one scene in particular that really struck me as the pinnacle of cinematography.

Gawain jumps into a pool of water by moonlight, and at first the greenish water slowly fades to darkness. Then, out of nowhere, a flash of crimson light illuminates the pool, with Gawain floating in the water. It’s marvelously executed.

The Fox

Arthurian fantasy books and movies have the potential to get quite grim, but The Green Knight is able to maintain a balance between moments of despair and fun adventure.

For the first part of Gawain’s journey to the Green Chapel, he treks alone through the medieval landscape. He crosses bloody fields and haunted forests, giving the film a dark, brooding vibe.

But, at a certain point, a red fox becomes Gawain’s traveling companion. Together, they continue to traverse the grim landscape, but now, the feeling is less of doom and more of adventure.

The cute fox adds an element of mystery to Gawain’s journey, but it also lightens the mood. I’m all for protagonists with animal companions, and this fits the bill.

The Green Knight Movie Review Score

Overall, I really enjoyed The Green Knight. It was fairly faithful to the source material while taking enough liberty to put a new spin on an old story.

Visually, the film was a work of art. The detail that went into color choice and lighting is clearly noticeable.

And the way the film is segmented into titled sections was a really neat idea, and it felt like a visual novel with distinct chapters, moreso than a single film.

I only had two gripes with The Green Knight.

First off, the pacing was a bit slow. The build up for the first hour was almost laborious, but the filmography was able to keep my interest until the story progressed into the really meaty sections.

Second, I was mildly confused at points. Flashforwards melded too-seamlessly with the present timeline, leaving me scratching my head for a few minutes before everything snapped back to reality. This really only matters at the end of the film, and it’s not even that big of a deal, just something that confused me a little.

All said and done, I give The Green Knight an 8/10. A solid rendition of the classic story, and hopefully the first in a new wave of Arthurian fantasy books and movies.

~~~

Follow Arc Manor Books at:
Twitter / Facebook / Instagram

REVISITED: Interview with Author Mica Scotti Kole

(Originally posted August 9, 2022 by Alicia Cay)

An award-winning author, and a regular to the pages of Galaxy’s Edge Magazine, writer and editor Mica Scotti Kole gave us the chance to peal back the pages and get a glimpse inside the life of a dreamer, artist, and someone who has followed her dreams straight into a reality …

Mica is a published science fiction writer, developmental editor, and Writers of the Future winner. She’s currently pursuing traditional publication with a virtual-reality novel about a kid stuck inside a video game boss—all while making an Actual Living as a fantasy ghostwriter on the side. She grows too many plants, brews her own beer, and makes googly noises over her goofy husband and their one-too-many cats. She once wrote 25,000 words in one day.

Alicia Cay: Hi Mica, welcome!
While I was reading about your many interests, I found out that you: can forge signatures, brew your own beer (I love that you name them after Magic the Gathering cards!), interned for Speilburg Literary Agency, founded #write4life, are a developmental editor, and are now making a living ghostwriting. Wow! What else should we know about you?

Mica Scotti Kole: You should know that my first love was writing; I’ve been doing it since my letters were an inch tall, and my stories were about polar bears riding hoverboards fueled by coconut milk.

But the thing about writing is that it’s not very physical, and to combat that, I’ve picked up some physical hobbies. Right now, I’m learning home renovation one project at a time (I was recently at Home Depot buying so much base molding that a stranger asked if I owned my own business), and I’m doing some heavy duty gardening (while periodically digging up the same toad who is absolutely terrorizing me), and a few years ago I picked up homebrewing to try to get my husband out of his computer chair (beer? yes, please!) … which hasn’t worked (beer someone else made? That I don’t need to help with? Double yes please!).

Sadly, however, I’m currently addicted to the Genshin Impact video game… so I have even more reason to get out of my chair, if only to ensure the blood keeps flowing in my legs.

AC: I think being terrorized by this toad while gardening is an idea begging to be made into a short story—haha!
Speaking of short stories, you have a new one out—“Still City”in the current issue of Galaxy’s Edge Magazine, July 2022, Issue 57.

“The walls are so bare, they reverberate. She took all the pictures down, but the memories still hang.”

Can I just say, this story is beautiful—futuristic, haunting, and full of longing—it makes the reader feel all the things that are going on in this story, but without telling them to feel it. Really lovely.


What inspired this story?

MSK: I’ve been through a divorce myself, at nineteen of all times. It taught me that people will endure a lot of bullshahonkey that makes them unhappy, clinging endlessly to something that is bad for them because Change Is Hard—until the one moment where some proverbial straw breaks the proverbial camel’s back, and they are just Done. I wanted to explore that point for a character.

At the same time, I also wanted to involve the powerful moment in the movie Shawshank Redemption where a character is released from a lifetime in prison, and the world he returns to is so different that he kills himself because he can’t understand it.

With these ideas, I then formulated a question: what if two people—presently getting a divorce—have to face a futuristic world with no one else but each other to help them deal with it? What would their final-straw moments be?

AC: That’s powerful! And once our readers check out your story “Still City” that explanation will hit home even harder.
You also have a short story — “Grave 657” — in a prior issue of Galaxy’s Edge Magazine, January 2021, Issue 48.

Tell us what that story is about? What inspired it?

MSK: Holy cow, this one has a story. During the Writers of the Future workshop, the mentors challenge the winners to write a short story in a day. We brainstormed these stories in “class”, and mine was about a robot mourning a human loss at a candlelight vigil.

One of the mentors, Orson Scott Card, absolutely destroyed this idea, rightfully saying that “a robot acting human” is too cliché, and to throw this story right out.

Um—challenge accepted?

So, I twisted the story up, made some changes, and Card ended up looking at a revised copy later. He then said to the whole group, “Look, I don’t know which of you wrote this, but I didn’t think you could do it, and you really, really pulled it off. Well done.” True glory moment, right there.

AC: That gave me goosebumps, what Scott Card said about your story. That is an incredible glory moment!
You mentioned you’re currently working on a virtual-reality novel about a kid stuck inside a video-game boss, and on your website it mentions a saga fantasy you’re writing—tell us about that one.

MSK: Oh, gosh, I’ve had to shelve that saga. I’m hoping I can get it out into the world someday … but it’s an elemental-type magic system (fire, water, earth, air) that spans seven planes of existence (Magic the Gathering actually invented the term “planeswalker”, so I can’t use it … cry).
 
The novel started off exactly as basic as it sounds, since I worked on it as a preteen; but as I aged, I wrote new stories from different worlds and times within this same invented universe.  So, in a way, as I grew and improved as a writer, the story itself grew and improved as well. It was my learning experience, and I may return to rewrite it someday.

As a teaser though, the saga included: a modern-day competition to become God, multiple cities built over pits (of the lava and bottomless variety, respectively), and giant snails that control gravity. A far cry from the “let’s use the elements and defeat the evil guy” story it all began with 🙂

If you haven’t noticed, I like to take people somewhere dark and weird without them knowing they are headed somewhere dark and weird, until it’s too late. The same goes for some of my science fiction.

AC: I think taking your readers somewhere dark and weird is an excellent description of your award-winning short story, “Are You the Life of the Party?” in the Writers of the Future, Vol. 35, anthology.
This was the first piece of yours I read, and dear readers, it will stick with you long after you’ve put the anthology down.
Mica, this one is so dark it almost leans to horror in mood and tone. Was this piece intended to be horror?

MSK: It was supposed to be plain old science fiction … turns out it’s not only dark, but that the staff and other winners at Writers of the Future described it as, “Oh no, girl, this is totally horror.” I wasn’t aware it was even “dark” until I met my illustrator, and he said, “I knew my writer was a woman. I had four of you to guess from, and you were my last guess.”

Another glory moment, thank you and good night.

AC: I myself enter and know many other up-and-coming writers who enter the Writers of the Future contest. Tell us a bit about your win and what’s happened for you since then.

MSK: I’d only entered once and lost without mention, then barely squeaked into third place with my second, completely different entry. The main thing you get as a winner, I think, is encouragement—they really make you believe you can do this for a living, and they give you the advice to make it more possible than ever.

As for my writing career, oh boy did it pay off, but not immediately.
See my timeline:
2019: WotF inspires me to self-publish.
2019: I self-publish a seven-book fantasy erotica series.
2020: The series fails miserably.
2022: One of my fellow winners meets a guy who needs erotic fantasy ghostwriters, he remembers what I published, and refers me.

I now make good money writing fantasy—all because Writers of the Future inspired me to do the exact, specific things I needed to become the exact, specific ghostwriter this guy needed, while also giving me the exact connection I needed to get the job to begin with.

Basically, both connections and failures pay off, and the more you have of both, the better your chances of succeeding. WotF gave me what I needed to fail well, and also to eventually succeed.

AC: It’s so true in the writing world that “both connections and failures pay off.” I think it’s knowing things like that which inspire so many writers to keep at it—to keep climbing that mountain and writing the next story. Who are some writers that have inspired you?

MSK: M. J. Kuhn, who wrote Among Thieves—this woman is superhuman—her book (agented and published by a Simon & Schuster imprint) is incredible. It’s The Lies of Locke Lamora meets Six of Crows, and she wrote, pitched, and edited it while working a full-time job and working toward a master’s degree and working out every day and maintaining an online platform presence and being a friggin’ bridesmaid at my wedding. Oh, and she’s also a great person. Gods know that takes effort too.

I should stress here that a writer need not be superhuman to succeed. I really admire anyone who writes while having kids or a day job (or both), but everyone’s path is different. You don’t have to burn yourself out to succeed, either. Self-care is important (I’m looking at you, too, M. J.).

AC: Any favorite novels that have inspired you?

MSK: Interestingly, it was Maggie Stiefvater’s incredible writing (e.g. The Raven Boysthat anti-inspired me, in a good way. I was reading that novel and realized, this woman writes so beautifully. I can literally never be this good. It was actually quite freeing.

I discovered then that I was a commercial writer, not a prose artist, and that I didn’t have to be a word master to write for a living—I could just be me. And throwing away that yardstick changed my career for the better. After all, Brandon Sanderson writes without frilly words, and he does just fine, amirite?

AC: What moves you to write?

MSK: I’ve been writing since I was four years old and just never stopped. And when I found out—while reading Harry Potter—that I have the same birthday as both Harry and J. K. Rowling, well, that made it clear writing was my destiny. Twelve-year-old logic, but still.

Dreams usually inspire my stories somehow—some random, wacky dream snippet (say, the sole gamer who can speak to a child trapped in a game boss), that I then pair with another concept (let’s involve Roku’s Basilisk somehow!), setting (let’s play this virtual reality game while on board on a spaceship!), or idea (hmm, now there has to also be Dyson spheres) which eventually wrangles itself into a book. Which is an exact example from the book I’m currently revising, running title Armor Like Glass.

As for my inspiration to keep writing… I have to. Quite simply, I would die without it.

AC: Where can we read more of your work?

MSK: I have a (happier) story in the Resurrection Trust anthology.
There’s my WotF win, which is one of the best volumes ever, in more than just my opinion. Seriously, the winners my year were mind-blowing, and to even make third place beside these people is one of the greatest honors of my life.

I’ve also got my winning Reedsy story up, if anyone wants a freebie.
“Still City” – Galaxy’s Edge Magazine, July 2022, Issue 57.
“Three, Two, One”-Galaxy’s Edge Magazine, Sept 2021, Issue 52.
“Grave 657” – Galaxy’s Edge Magazine, Jan 2021, Issue 48.
And, I offer Developmental Editing Services, if anyone’s keen on that.
I’m focused on my novel now, so there’s not many of my short stories out there, except—Galaxy’s Edge Magazine has more coming out soon!

AC: That’s great to hear. I for one can’t wait to read them.
Thank you so much for this, Mica! We wish you all the best going forward.

#

Find more about Mica at her website ~ micascottikole.com

~~~

Follow Arc Manor Books at:
Twitter / Facebook / Instagram

REVISITED: Galaxy’s Edge Interviews Jonathan Maberry

(Originally posted on September 23, 2021 by Isaac Payne)

In the September 2021 issue of Galaxy’s Edge, Jean Marie Ward interviewed Jonathan Maberry, prolific writer and editor of Weird Tales magazine. Check out the full interview below …

#

About Jean Marie Ward

Jean Marie Ward writes fiction, nonfiction and everything in between. Her credits include a multi-award nominated novel, numerous short stories and two popular art books. The former editor of CrescentBlues.com, she is a frequent contributor to Galaxy’s Edge and ConTinual, the convention that never ends. Learn more at JeanMarieWard.com.
 

#

Confessions of a High-Output Writer

New York Timesbestselling author Jonathan Maberry credits his grandmother, his middle school librarian, and the college professor he once hated most with turning him into writer. But it’s doubtful they or his former mentors, Ray Bradbury and Richard Matheson, could have foreseen how far their lessons would take him. The short list of his honors includes five Bram Stoker Awards, the Inkpot Award, three Scribe Awards, multiple teen book awards, and designation as a Today Top Ten Horror Writer. His many novels and anthologies have been sold to more than thirty countries. As a comics writer, he has written dozens of titles for Marvel Comics, Dark Horse, and IDW Publishing. V-Wars, the shared world anthology series he created for IDW Publishing, has been made into a Netflix series starring Ian Somerhalder, who previously appeared in Lost and The Vampire Diaries. Maberry’s young adult Rot & Ruin series was adapted as a webtoon for cell phones and is in development for film. As if that wasn’t enough, he currently serves as the president of the International Association of Media Tie-In Writers AND as editor of the iconic Weird Tales magazine.

Huffing and puffing to keep up, Galaxy’s Edge talked to Maberry about his origins as a writer, the experiences that shaped him into a multi-genre powerhouse, and the seminal role Black Panther played in his life.

Galaxy’s Edge: You’ve said many times that you always wanted to be a writer. As a young child you made stories up about your toys. What pointed you in the direction of horror?

Jonathan Maberry: My grandmother, who was my favorite blood relative, was basically a grownup version of Luna Lovegood from Harry Potter. She was that person who believed in everything. She believed in what you call “the larger world”—ghosts, goblins, and by extension, things like UFOs and alternate dimensions in the realms of fairy. She believed in everything. She was born on Halloween, and she embraced that. She only had pets that were born on Halloween. In fact, she gave me the very first pet I ever had, my dog Spooker. There’s a picture of him behind me on the wall. [My grandmother] gave him to me because he was born on Halloween.

She got me involved in the spooky stuff. But what’s interesting is, not only did she tell me all the folklore tales and some of the fictional tales of monsters, she encouraged me to read the anthropology, the science, and the commentary on why people believe these things. Even though she was very broad in her belief systems, she felt that there was a connection to our real world. She felt that what we consider to be the supernatural—or the preternatural, or the paranormal (there are different variations)—are all parts of a world we will eventually learn how to measure, and that we only know about one hundredth or 1 percent of what we will eventually know. So, she considered these things to be future science.

From there, I started learning about vampires, werewolves, and all sorts of things. Of course, I started watching the TV shows and the movies, and became hooked on those. I loved the folktales, the fiction, and the nonfiction. In fact, the first couple of books I did on the supernatural were nonfiction, exploring beliefs about the paranormal and supernatural around the world throughout history. I wrote those books because of her and because of the things she’d exposed me to as a kid.

Galaxy’s Edge: This is probably unfair to your hometown, but my mom was from Philadelphia, and I lived in the suburbs from 1969 to 1977. So, I’ve got to ask, how much did living in Philadelphia during Frank Rizzo’s tenure as police commissioner and mayor shape your vision of monsters?

Jonathan Maberry: Well, it didn’t so much shape my vision as monsters as it did shape my vision of a corrupt police state, which may have informed my love of writing thrillers with corrupt officials. [Rizzo] was not only corrupt, he was notoriously and openly corrupt. It was a reinforcement of the same skewed view of how power was used by those in power over those who didn’t have power that I had learned from home. Because I grew up in a very abusive home with a very dictatorial and violent father in a blue-collar neighborhood that was very violent. A lot of abuse.

There were also a lot of people in the neighborhood who were involved in the police department in one way or another. Rizzo was a policeman’s mayor, you know. Not a good policeman’s mayor, but a policeman’s mayor. He would have been a really good mob boss had he been in Chicago in the ’Thirties. It gave me a very jaundiced view of political power. And the fact that for him, it wasn’t even about party. It was just power. He was a manipulative sociopath in power. That’s a pattern we’ve seen elsewhere.

Galaxy’s Edge: Yes, it is. I also wondered what role did observing this abuse of power play in your writerly activism. You’re involved with multiple writers’ organizations. You founded the Philadelphia Liars Club and Writers Coffeehouses across the country specifically to help writers. Was there a connection between the two?

Jonathan Maberry: It was more of an economic thing, because in the neighborhood where I grew up—actually, in my own household—reading was not encouraged. In fact, if we were seen reading a book, the most commonly asked question was, “Are you trying to get above yourself?” My father used to ask that all the time. And of course, the thought I had was, “No, I’m trying to get above you.”

The desire to educate myself out of that environment was really strong. Not only was reading not encouraged, creative expression of that sort was viewed as impractical and something of an insult to people who are hard-working blue-collar stiffs, which is not the case. You rise to the call of your genius. Whatever you feel you do best is what you should try to do. Writing is what I always wanted to do, and I found so many other writers who had been browbeaten by everyone they knew, even well-intentioned family members, because it’s too hard, you’re not gonna make any money, you’re not gonna do this. It’s all this negative propaganda that is parroted at all levels. It comes down from somewhere, but it filters through family, from neighborhood, through high school counselors.

My high school counselor tried to talk me out of being a writer. That neighborhood, that environment, was all about getting out of school, getting into a factory, and paying the bills. That was it, and that’s doom to a writer. I mean, it’s worse than a prison sentence.

I got some unexpected help along the way from incredible writers who I met in most unlikely circumstances, Ray Bradbury and Richard Matheson, in particular. They didn’t need to help me. It was of no actual benefit to them. But they saw someone who was trying to write their way out of where they were and into the future they wanted. And they helped.

As an inspiration, that can’t be beat. So, whenever I had the opportunity to use my position, my connections, my experience, whatever, to help other writers move up and break through the propaganda, break through the self-doubt, into the opportunity to do something worthwhile with their skills, I took it. It’s tied also to a viewpoint that I saw a lot as a kid, but also saw reinforced during the economic downturn of 2008-2009.

There are two camps of writers. One camp seems to feel that if somebody asks you for advice, or a lead, or something, and you give it to them, that means you’re denying it to yourself. That camp feels opportunities are finite, that open doors are finite, that if you help someone else, you’re screwing yourself. It’s a very fear-based viewpoint. It’s also a very popular viewpoint. The other camp believes that if writers help other writers to become better writers, more good books will get written. Those good books will attract more book sales and more readers, and everyone will prosper.

One approach is fear-based, and the other is optimism-based. I’ve always felt that the optimism-based approach is what’s going to get us out of the mud that we’re stuck in when we grow up in an environment like that and have been propagandized like that.

Galaxy’s Edge: Your first fiction series, the Deep Pine Trilogy, drew a lot on the knowledge and love of folklore your grandmother inspired. But your later works, notably, V-Wars and the Joe Ledger series display a profoundly scientific bent. What drew you to blending science and horror?

Jonathan Maberry: Again, that started with my grandmother encouraging me to read the science, the folklore, even the medicine, to explain things. For example, a lot of the beliefs about evil spirits coming to draw the life out of a sleeping child were really ways for less educated people in earlier centuries to explain things like sudden infant death syndrome. If you look at the science of it, you can understand the belief. With that comes also understanding of the needs for [the belief]. I’ll explain with SIDS.

A healthy child goes to bed and dies. There are no marks. There’s nothing to suggest that it was harmed. But maybe the window was open, and people say, “Oh, something got in.”

But say this is the 17th century, and a child died under those circumstances. It feels so arbitrary that it puts people out of sync with their religious beliefs. Why would a loving God allow an innocent child to die like that? So, the parents go to their priest, which was the common thing to do, because the local church was the center of knowledge and where information was shared. The priest says, “Well, you must have sinned in some way, say these prayers, put up these relics, and it won’t happen again.” Sudden infant death syndrome rarely happens again within the same family. So, the next child doesn’t die after the rituals, and the people have a reinforcement of their faith.

Thus the presence of the belief in a monster that has come and taken the life of the child becomes necessary to reinforce their belief in a protective God. Reading the science of that not only gives me a historical and clinical perspective, it gives me real insight into character motivations as needs, and the way in which a story then evolves into a satisfying conclusion.

Galaxy’s Edge: Did meeting Richard Matheson have anything to do with it?

Jonathan Maberry: Richard Matheson is the biggest influence on my style. Even though I write in about a dozen different genres, almost everything I write is built on the structure of a thriller, the race against time to prevent something from happening—as opposed to a suspense, where we’re all in the moment or in a mystery we’re solving. The thriller is that race against time. {Matheson’s] novel, I Am Legend (which he gave me a copy of for Christmas 1973) is a prototypical thriller. I mean, it’s a prototype for the thrillers that came afterwards.

[In I Am Legend] something comes up. A big calamity ends the world. You have the apocalyptic element of the story. You also have a science element to the story because it was the first time that a horror story or the genre of science fiction horror used actual science to try to explain itself.

Prior to that science fiction horror like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde or Frankenstein made references to chemicals or galvanism without going into any detail. In I Am Legend, [Matheson] actually went into the experiments to find bacillus vampiris, which created the vampire plague. He gave us the scientific explanation, the step-by-step. That made it so much more real. The story became more riveting and more threatening to the reader, because now that line between reality and fiction is blurred. That makes it a really compelling thriller.

I’ve taken that model and applied it to almost everything I’ve written. I also use this old con man saying: “Use nine truths to sell one lie.” I build my fiction on a scaffolding of pretty solid science. I do a lot of research, so it’s harder for the reader to know when I have stepped off into fantasy. That started with Matheson and a lot of what Matheson told me when I was a kid.

Galaxy’s Edge: Fifteen-years-old is a very impressionable age, isn’t it?

Jonathan Maberry: Yes.

Galaxy’s Edge: You imprinted on him.

Jonathan Maberry: Well, I met him when I was 12. It was the middle school librarian at my school in Philly who introduced me to him, Bradbury, and others. There was a group of writers who would meet occasionally in New York, and she worked as a kind of informal secretary for them. She dragged me along, partly as baggage and partly because she knew I wanted to write. They took me on as a pet project. All of these great writers, Arthur C. Clarke and Harlan Ellison—whoever was in town—took time to give me advice, like they were competing with one another to give me the best advice that night. I’m really cool with that kind of attention. In fact, the tenth-anniversary edition of Ghost Road Blues, my first novel, has the last ever cover quotes from Bradbury and Matheson.

Galaxy’s Edge: Oh, how wonderful! Now you’re paying forward the help you received.

Jonathan Maberry: Which I should. We should all do that, because there’s not one person who has ever gotten anywhere significant without help. And often, too often, people don’t pause to explain that help was there, who helped them, or to even focus on their own gratitude for what happened. You know, it’s not all about us. It’s literally about us—the community, not the individual. I get so jazzed seeing people take that step, get that deal, or hit a list. It’s like an ongoing party.

Galaxy’s Edge: Returning to the subject of science and pseudoscience, we both grew up in a time when educators and behaviorists believed that growing minds should be shielded from the horrors of things like Weird Tales, EC comics, and Hammer Films. As evidenced by your YA titles, such as the Rot & Ruin series, you see things differently. Why is horror important for young adult readers?

Jonathan Maberry: Because horror is almost always a metaphor for things that are happening in real life. I grew up, as I said, in an abusive household, a very violent household, and a violent neighborhood. There was nobody shielding me as a kid. As a result, I think I got a more clear and well-balanced perspective on life than I would have had if I had been sheltered. Sheltering someone from immediate harm—like pulling your kid away from a hot oven—okay, that’s smart. But not allowing the kid to understand the nature of danger, the nature of heroism, the nature of survival, or all the different qualities that they will need as adults? Sheltering them from that is silly, because it’s not like once they graduate from high school, they suddenly get a download of all these survival skills. They don’t. They have to acquire them along the way.

I remember just talking to my friends as a kid. We were a lot deeper than the adults thought we were. All kids are deeper than adults think they are. To shelter them is a great way to prevent that intellectual growth, empathic growth, and societal awareness. Anytime you shelter, you blind. Anytime you allow the kid to see and then make decisions, and form their own opinions, you’re encouraging growth. It’s useful if parents are there to have conversations about it, but not to stand in the way.

Galaxy’s Edge: You’ve worked extensively in comics, television, and animation. How difficult was it to switch from writing novels and short stories to scripting comics and other broadcast media?

Jonathan Maberry: Well, I haven’t actually written TV scripts yet. I’ve had stuff adapted. I was executive producer, but I was not actually writing the scripts. I haven’t done that yet. I’m studying the form because I will be doing that.

As far as comics go, comics were a bit of a culture shock for me. I mean, I grew up with comics. I was a Marvel kid. I’ve read all the Marvel Comics. But to write them? I write very long novels. My first novel is 148,000 words. It’s a long novel where you can have long conversations with characters, long descriptions, long interior monologues, and so on. But you can’t in comics. Brevity is very important. But also with comics, you have to realize that it is no longer a solo act. With a novel, it’s you and your laptop. With comics, you write the script. You describe what’s in each panel, so you give the art direction. Sure.

But then the artist comes in, and the artist’s A game is to do visual storytelling. You have to learn how to not yield control but share the process, so that they are able to do their best work while you’re doing yours. Then the colorist, and the letterer all have artistic contributions to make. It’s a much more collaborative process. I’ve been told by friends of mine who have gone from comics to writing TV, that it’s excellent training for writing for television, because TV and film are also collaborative. I’m now in the process of pitching a TV series with a couple producer friends, and everything is collaborative. We all have strong ideas, but it’s not one person’s gig. So I learned a lot of that from comics.

One funny thing happened when I just started writing comics. I love dialogue. So I had a lot of dialogue in one of my first comics, and the artist very politely said, “At any point, would you like the readers to be able to see the art?” And I’m like, “Oops.”

It’s funny, I had already been warned about that by Joe Hill, who is the son of Stephen King, and a great writer himself. [Hill] had had almost exactly the same conversation with Gabriel Rodriguez, who was his artist for Locke & Key. Joe said, “Do your draft, and then cut it back by 80 percent.” And I’m thinking, “I don’t need to do that.” Then I got that email, and it was: “Oh, yeah, I need to do that.” The comic was better for it, by the way…

Friends of mine, like Gregg Hurwitz, who wrote Batman and a lot of TV, said, “Writing an issue of comics is very similar to writing an hour of TV drama.” Even the beats are the same, because you have to have dramatic beats for ads and page breaks, which are not that dissimilar from the beats for commercial breaks. He said, “It’s about 75 percent. If you can write a comic book, you’re 75 percent there for how to write a TV script.”

Galaxy’s Edge: Speaking of comics, I didn’t realize when I was drafting my questions that the way you got involved with the Black Panther comic was among the most important events of your life, both in terms of your introduction to the comic, and later in terms of writing it. Would you mind talking a little bit about that?

Jonathan Maberry: When I was a kid, I got involved in Marvel Comics in a big way. I was really a huge fan of Marvel, my favorite comic being The Fantastic Four. The character of the child of the Black Panther was introduced in one of the early issues. I think it was issue 54 of Fantastic Four.

My father, who was deeply racist and involved in the Ku Klux Klan, was very upset that I was reading a comic in which a black man was a king, a superhero, and a scientist. He tore the comic up. He knocked me around for even having it. But a couple of years later, I took another issue of that comic in which the Black Panther appeared to my middle school librarian, the same one introduced me to Matheson and Bradbury. I said, “I’d get in trouble if I show this to my father. Can [you] tell me about this?” And she said, “Well, that particular issue is about apartheid.” I had no idea what that was.

[I showed her] another issue that I brought with me, and she said, “That one’s about the Jim Crow laws.” She kept asking me if I knew about these things, and I didn’t, because all that had been suppressed in my neighborhood. I met no one of color until I was in seventh grade, not one person. I wound up diving deep into an understanding of racism and intolerance. As much as Philadelphia is the City of Brotherly Love, there was a lot of racism there. In certain parts of the city, it was pretty intense, especially in the ’Sixties. That understanding opened my eyes. You know, you have a choice. You can close your eyes and pretend the world is what you were trained to believe, or you can keep your eyes open to see the world for what it actually is.

I don’t believe in closing one’s eyes. The old nature versus nurture thing is actually an imperfect equation. It’s nature versus nurture, versus choice. Choice is a big thing. I chose to keep my eyes open.

I went diving deep into understanding racism. It changed the course of my life and split me from my father forever. Every part of my personality, every part of my understanding of the world and fairness and everything of history pivoted on that moment. It is the most important single moment of my life.

Roll forward to 2008-2009. I had just started writing for Marvel Comics, and Reginald Hudlin who is the founder of BET, an Academy Award-winning producer, and was then the writer of Black Panther, heard this anecdote. He suggested to the editor-in-chief of Marvel that when he stepped down, they have me write the comic.

Now, this was a challenge. At this point, Black writers were writing the Black Panther comic, and I agree with having Black writers write that comic. It’s the iconic, first Black superhero ever. But that child had saved my life too. It had changed me. Just as it changed the lives of a lot of Black kids who found that character, it changed my life as a White kid who found the character. And they asked me if I would write a comic which, of course, I wanted to write. I actually cried when I was told that they were offering this to me.

But also, because I had been teaching women’s self-defense for so many years, including 14 years at Temple University, they made a change in the character. T’Challa got injured in the comic, and his sister Shuri had to step up to become the Panther. So what they handed me was the feminist Black Panther comic to write, which I did for two years. It was one of the greatest honors of my career, and so much fun. And I’m pretty sure that my father was spinning in his grave at warp speed because this was everything he would have hated, and it’s everything that I became because that character help split me off from him.

It’s one of my favorite memories, and one of my favorite things to say is: “Yeah, I was part of that actual world. I was part of the Black Panther. I have my own guest membership in Wakanda.”

Galaxy’s Edge: Amazing. Simply amazing. You never know where the words you put on the page will take someone you never met.

That’s an impossible act to follow, but I do have a couple of questions left. With all the articles, books, comics, greeting cards, and everything else you’ve written, what prompted you to add editing to your resume?

Jonathan Maberry: When I got into novels, which was only 2006, I thought that was all I was gonna do. I had no interest in writing short stories. Then I was invited to write a couple of short stories for different anthologies. I liked the process, but I generally do not do a project unless I become familiar with the other players. So, I started having conversations with the editors, getting insights into what they do and seeing how much they loved it. You know, they’re the first people to read stories [they’ve commissioned] by their favorite writers. I said, that sounds like Christmas morning.

So, I started putting out feelers. But the way I started editing my World War Z anthologies was kind of funny. Max Brooks had been editing an anthology of G.I. Joe stories—the little Hasbro toys. He invited me to write a novella for it, which I did. He had originally planned to do a couple of different anthologies for that same publisher, IDW Publishing. But after [the G.I. Joe] project, he had to go and do something else.

So IDW asked me if I would like to edit the next anthology. I had just finished reading a whole bunch of shared world anthologies, and I thought, “Wow, that’s kind of fun. If I’m gonna do one, I might as well do one where I can play too.” Generally, the editor of an anthology does not contribute a story. But in a shared world, they usually create the world, write a framing story, and other people write individual stories.

So, I pitched one about a plague that turns people into vampires. It became V-Wars, my first anthology, and I loved it. I curated it. I invited those friends of mine who were really good writers, but who were also of the same emotional bent as me in that I felt they were good-hearted people, people who were generous with their colleagues, especially with newer colleagues, and played well with others. I do not work with people who are prima donnas. It’s just not worth the effort. I want people who are having fun but also professional. I fell in love with them.

I’ve edited 18 anthologies. Then later on, a producer friend, who was involved in the return of Weird Tales magazine, asked if would I be interested in coming aboard to help curate and edit some issues. I started out as consulting editor or editorial director—I think that was the first title. But by the second issue, I was actually the editor. And well, I’m working with my next two issues simultaneously.

Galaxy’s Edge: That is a heavy workload. Anything related to a periodical is a full-time job.

Jonathan Maberry: Yeah, but I had really interesting training. I went to Temple University School of Journalism, and I had a couple of teachers, notably John Hayes, who was a teacher I hated while at school, and now I wanna put him up for sainthood. He taught me how to be a high-output writer, which is a skill set. I didn’t know I would like to do that. Turns out it’s where I’m having the most fun. I wouldn’t have taken on the editorial gigs had I not felt that I could work them into my schedule while still writing three to four novels a year and short stories. I’m having a blast doing it. Yeah, it makes for some long days sometimes, but it’s a long day doing what you love. It’s not like it’s a hardship.

Galaxy’s Edge: We’re coming up on the end of the interview. Is there anything you’d like to add?

Jonathan Maberry: For any writer out there who’s reading this, the Writers Coffeehouse has, because of COVID, moved online. You can find us on Facebook at Facebook.com/groups/TheWritersCoffeehouse. It is free. It is a community of writers helping each other with no agenda other than to help each other. So go check it out on Facebook. Also, if you go to my website, JonathanMaberry.com (only one “Y”), there’s a whole page of free stuff for writers—comic book scripts, novels, samples, and so on. It’s all downloadable PDFs. Go grab what you need.

Copyright © 2021 by Jean Marie Ward

~~~

Follow Arc Manor Books at:
Twitter / Facebook / Instagram

THE FINAL ISSUE: GALAXY’S EDGE MAGAZINE—THE LAST WEEK

Oof! This is an emotional post to put down on the page.

Not only has Galaxy’s Edge magazine been out for ten years in print with a whopping 61 issues under its belt, but here we are, not only our final issue, but also the last week of our free, two-month preview of this issue on the Galaxy’s Edge website.

In the past several weeks, we’ve shared with you a bit of history from the creator of this magazine, Mike Resnick, from a look back to his Editor’s Notes in Issue One, where he shared with us a history of some of the magazines in the field of Science Fiction and Fantasy, to his Editor’s Notes from Issue Two, where he went on to tell us more about some of the writers and editors in this genre.

We went on to share some story teasers from our final issues, here in Part 1 and Part 2; a teaser of the final Editor’s Note from our current Editor-in-Chief, Lezli Robyn; Highlights from Issue 62; our final Review Roundup from Richard Chwedyk; and a short story from Mr. Mike Resnick, the creator of this magazine.

Head over to Galaxy’s Edge, take a peek around one last time, and join us in waving farewell to this version of Galaxy’s Edge magazine.

We’ll have news about our upcoming semi-annual themed anthology series soon!

Stay tuned for all the details, and the open call … when it comes.

Thank you. ♥

~~~

Follow Arc Manor Books at:
Twitter / Facebook / Instagram

GALAXY’S EDGE MAGAZINE: A LOOK BACK (CONT.) ISSUE TWO

A couple of weeks ago, we shared a look back to Issue One’s: The Editor’s Word by Mike Resnick. In that article, Mike shared some of the “colorful” history of the Science Fiction world and then promised to return in Issue Two with a story or two about the writers and editors who make up this genre.

Keep reading for a look back and a little fun.

~~~

From the end of the last Editor’s Word by Mike Resnick:

“Mike here again. Okay, now you know a bit about the magazines. Next issue I’ll tell you about some of the writers and editors who make up this colorful field.”

And now …

#

THE EDITOR’S WORD
by Mike Resnick

~May 2013~

Welcome to the second issue of Galaxy’s Edge. Like the first, and all future issues, this one is a mixture of new stories and reprints, reviews and columns. The reprints are stories you may have missed by very-well-known authors, and the new stories are by authors who we expect to join the ranks of the well-known somewhere up the road.

And while I’m on the subject of well-known authors …

We have quite a coup this issue. The magnificent C. L. Moore has been one of my two or three favorite authors for the past half century, and I assure you I’m not alone in this regard. She broke into print in her early twenties, and her very first story, “Shambleau,” which appeared in a 1933 issue of Weird Tales, is an acknowledged classic.

Well, “Shambleau” was her first professional story, but it turns out that her very first published story was “Happily Ever After,” which appeared in the November 1930 issue of The Vagabond, a student magazine published by Indiana University. It’s quite short, but it shows that she had the right stuff even then. And with this issue, Galaxy’s Edge is thrilled to be able to present—for the first time in 83 years—C. L. Moore’s very first story. Thanks to Catherine for writing it, and to Andrew Liptak for unearthing it.

And why (I hear you ask) was she “C. L.” rather than “Catherine”? The general assumption is that she was hiding her gender in what was an almost all-male field. Logical, but wrong. She was hiding her name from her employer, a bank president who viewed the pulps with total loathing.

An interesting historical tidbit?

Yes, it is—and it’s just one of many.

So many people are so interested in the giants of our field—many, alas, no longer with us—that I thought I’d share some memories of them with you before they’re all forgotten by me and others.

***

The late Robert Sheckley was my good friend, and even my collaborator the year before his death.

Bob occasionally suffered from Writer’s Block, but he had an infallible way of beating it. He set himself an absolute minimum production of 5,000 words a day. If he couldn’t think of anything else, he told me, he’d write his name 2,500 times. And on those days he was blocked, he’d sit down and force himself to start typing. And to quote him: “By the time I’d typed ‘Robert Sheckley’ 800 or 900 times, a little subconscious editor would kick in and say ‘Fuck it, as long as you’re stuck here for another 3,300 words, you might as well write a story.’”

According to Bob, it never failed.

***

E. E. “Doc” Smith was the first pro I ever met at a con, back in 1963. Sweet man, very fond of fandom, very accessible to anyone. I always thought his greatest invention (other than the Lens and the Lensmen) was the seasonal Ploorians. Doc’s daughter, Verna Trestrail, became a good friend, and I used to see her every year at Midwestcon and Rivercon. She once remarked that she helped her dad from time to time. So I asked how, and she replied that, among other things, she had invented the Ploorians.

(Verna also created the planet where Clarissa had to function in the nude. She told me that Doc bought a gorgeous painting of it—and Mrs. Doc took one look at it and consigned it to the attic for the next 25 years.)

***

I met Robert A. Heinlein only a couple of times, at the 1976 and 1977 Worldcons, so I have no personal anecdotes to tell you about him—but Theodore Sturgeon had one. There was a point in the mid-1940s where Sturgeon was played out. He couldn’t come up with any saleable stories, his creditors were after him, and he was terminally depressed…and he mentioned it to Heinlein in a letter. A week later he got a letter from Heinlein with 26 story ideas and a $100 bill to tide him over until he started selling again. And, according to Sturgeon, before the decade was over he had written and sold all 26 stories.

***

I never met Fredric Brown. I know he grew up in Cincinnati, where I have lived the past 37 years, but no one here remembers meeting him. And I know he spent a lot of time working in Chicago, where I spent my first 33 years, and I never met anyone there who knew him either. But I do know he had a habit, especially when writing his mysteries (which far outnumbered his science fiction) of getting on a Greyhound bus and riding it for hundreds, sometimes thousands, of miles, until he had his plot worked out to the last detail. Then he’d come home, sit down, and quickly type the book he’d already written in his head while touring the countryside.

***

Phil Klass (who wrote as “William Tenn”) told this one on a panel I moderated at Noreascon IV, the 2004 Worldcon where he was the Guest of Honor.

He was dating a new girl, and he mentioned it to Ted Sturgeon when they were both living in New York. Sturgeon urged Phil to bring the girl to his apartment for dinner. He and his wife would lay out an impressive spread, and Ted would regale the girl with tales of how talented and important Phil was. Phil happily agreed.

What he didn’t know was that Ted and his then-wife were nudists. So Phil and the girl walk up to the door of Ted’s apartment, Phil knocks, the door opens, and there are Ted and his wife, totally naked. They greet them and start leading them to the dining room.

Phil’s girl turns to him and whispers: “You didn’t tell me we had to dress for dinner!”

***

Speaking of dinners …

At our first Worldcon, Discon I in 1963—I was 21, my still-beautiful bride Carol was 20—Randall Garrett invited a bunch of new writers and their spouses out for dinner—his treat. Then, during dessert, he excused himself to say something of vital importance to his agent, who was walking past the restaurant. He left the table—and we never saw him again. The rest of us got stuck with the tab (it was an expensive restaurant, we were broke kids, and Randy himself had the most expensive dish and wine on the menu).

Move the clock ahead three years. Randy spots Carol and me at Tricon (the 1966 Worldcon in Cleveland) and offers to buy us dinner. We say sure. During dessert Carol excuses herself to go powder her nose, and I remember a phone call I have to make. We meet and walk out, leaving Randy with the tab he had promised to pay (but, according to Bob Bloch, Bob Tucker, and others I’d spoken to before going out with him, had no intention of paying).

Move the clock ahead one more year, and we’re at NYcon III, the 1967 Worldcon in New York. On opening night Randy spots me across the room, turns red in the face, and yells: “Resnick, I’m never eating dinner with you again!”

I got an ovation from every pro and fan he’d ever stuck with a dinner check.

***

And let me end with one about a living giant, just to be different—my friend, Nebula Grand Master, Worldcon Guest of Honor, and contributor to this issue, Robert Silverberg.

When Bob started submitting to Astounding, John Campbell turned down his first few stories, and Bob’s sometime collaborator Randy Garrett (they wrote as “Robert Randall”) suggested that Campbell disliked Jewish names, so Bob submitted one under the name of “Calvin M. Knox,” and Campbell bought it.

Over the years he sold to Campbell as both “Knox” and Silverberg. Some years later John Campbell asked him why he’d used the Knox name. Bob gave him an honest answer. Campbell’s reply: “Did you ever hear of Isaac Asimov?”

Then, as the conversation was drawing to a close and Bob was about to leave, Campbell asked him why of all the pseudonyms in the world he chose Calvin M. Knox. Bob replied that it was the most Protestant-sounding name he could think of.

Finally, as he’s going out the door, Campbell asks him what the “M” stands for.

Bob’s answer: “Moses.”

***

How can you not love this field?

~~~

We agree, Mike. We agree. ♥

Join us next week when we share Part 2 of some snippets of the twenty-two stories gracing Galaxy’s Edge magazine’s last issue.

~~~

Follow Arc Manor Books at:
Twitter / Facebook / Instagram

GALAXY’S EDGE MAGAZINE FINAL ISSUE: STORY TEASERS ~ PART I

#

It was Mike Resnick’s hope in starting Galaxy’s Edge magazine that: “Most of the new stories are by less-well-know (but not less talented) authors.” In keeping with that spirit, our Editor Lezli Robyn filled this final, and extra-large issue ~ Issue Sixty-Two: May 2023 ~ with twenty-two spectacular stories.

This week we’re bringing you a taste, a teaser, an amuse-bouche of the first eleven stories of those stories, and our hope? That you’ll read on and find your next favorite author! ♥

~~~

MOON AND SKY, FEATHER AND STONE
by Rebecca E. Treasure

Rebecca grew up reading in the Rockies and has lived in many places, including Japan & Germany. Rebecca’s short fiction has been published by or is forthcoming from Flame Tree, Zooscape Magazine, Galaxy’s Edge, and others. Fueled by cheese-covered starch and corgi fur, Rebecca is an editor at Apex Magazine and a writing mentor.

***

Lora never fit where she was. When the moon bells rang and everyone’s eyes turned glassy, hers stayed dull and hollow. When Mother made blackberry tea, Lora snuck warm goat milk from the bucket. When Father sang the morning song and Ella cried with faith and passion, the music jangled in Lora’s ears.

The closest she’d ever been to belonging was right here, mud squishing between her toes and her little brother’s hand in hers as they prepared to jump.

Lora looked down into Oran’s eyes. “Ready?”

He shared her grin, nodding. They scrambled up the steep granite over the swimming hole, a miniature mountain. Their breathing deepened, drawing in delicate perfume from lilacs surrounding the clearing. Three steps—Lora shortened hers so they leapt together—and they flew.

Lora knew where she’d fit, but it was in a place she’d never been, with people who were not hers …

#

THAT SUNDAY ON THE TRAIL WITH THE MEREST BREATH OF SEA
by Beth Cato

Nebula Award-nominated Beth Cato is the author of A Thousand Recipes for Revenge from 47North plus two fantasy series from Harper Voyager. She’s a Hanford, California native now residing in a far distant realm. Follow her at BethCato.com and on Twitter at @BethCato

***

Rosamund had hopes that the family reunion wouldn’t completely suck after her mom told her it’d take place in Cambria, right on the California coast, but as Mom drove up a narrow winding road flanked by squished-tight houses, Rosamund’s enthusiasm withered up like a three-year-old raisin.

“Mom! I can’t even see the ocean!” Rosamund twisted around to look, the seatbelt strap threatening to strangle her.

“You’ll be able to smell the ocean from the camp, I’m sure. Now face forward.”

Rosamund flung herself around. “This is going to be awful. They don’t even like me.”

“Stop that. My family loves you.” Mom glanced at her in the rear-view mirror.

“But they think I’m a freak.”

Mom sighed and didn’t argue. Rosamund glowered out a window that showed only pines as the road dipped and snaked through a small patch of forest. A tall wooden archway, adorned with balloons, announced their arrival at Camp Carraway …

#

THE LAND OF PERMUTATIONS
by Tatsiana Zamirovskaya
translated by Julia Meitov Hersey

Tatsiana Zamirovskaya is a writer from Belarus, who moved to Brooklyn in 2015. She writes metaphysical and socially charged fiction about memory, ghosts, hybrid identities, and borders between empires and languages. Tatsiana is the author of 3 short story collections and a novel about digital resurrection, The Deadnet, which was published in 2021 in Moscow, receiving great critical acclaim. She is also a journalist and essayist, writing about art, traumatic memories, dictatorships and dreams.

Born in Moscow, Julia Meitov Hersey moved to Boston at the age of nineteen and has been straddling the two cultures ever since. She spends her days juggling a full-time job and her beloved translation projects. Julia is a recipient of the Rosetta Science Fiction and Fantasy Award for Best Translated Work, long form (2021).

***

A terrible rumbling noise woke us up at nine in the morning.

It was the fieldour field.

We took off as soon as we heard it, obviously, because it was our field. Everything that happened there was ours, and only ours. That’s where Nielle and I met the brown earthen witch in her mushroom apothecary cap. That’s where, breathless with terror, I summoned the White Dog on the fifth moonrise, and the Dog came, and brought us ten-day-old pups in a basket, just for cuddles. Every day these pups, blind and sweetly hairless like dandelions after a storm, grew thinner, their skin more pink and transparent, until on the tenth day they morphed into a pile of quietly wiggling skin bubbles, and then the White Dog came and took them back into her womb. That’s where Nielle dug a grave for the forest devil and did such a great job that, when the forest devil died, he came and lay in his new grave because he had no other refuge, no other place to go. That’s where we searched for the meat fern flower on a July night, and eventually we found it and put it under Uncle Volodya’s pillow. The next morning he won the lottery—a three-room apartment somewhere on the outskirts of our town. He stays in that apartment drinking day and night, and now we know we should have put that flower under his ex-wife’s pillow, not his. It was our field, our feral, bloody, boggy, alive land, and our hair sat within it, and the amber half moons of our nails, our incantations, and the summer rhymes we composed for Death. (It was Nielle’s idea to write special verses for Death so She would stop by the edge of the field and listen for a moment. The verses were to have these special white spots, flickering agony, arrhythmical Cheyne-Stokes rattle, pools of cloudy morning water in lamb hooves, an attentive stare of a bewitched snipe at sundown—we couldn’t break the spell, but at least we tried.) …

#

THE INCONSTANT HEART
by Kary English

Kary English is a Hugo and Astounding finalist whose work has been published by Galaxy’s Edge, The Grantville Gazette, Wordfire Press, Writers of the Future, and Tor Nightfire.

***

Once upon a time in the spring of the world, a young man named Edwin set out to seek his fortune. Edwin’s coat was thin and threadbare, and his boots were more patches than leather. His purse held only a few small coins, but his back was strong and his heart was pure, so off he went into the wide world with a pack over one shoulder and his bow over the other. He walked for several days until the fields gave way to wilder lands, and the road dwindled to a dusty track. On the eve of the seventh day, he came across a cottage of wattle and daub nestled against the edge of a dark forest.

Night was falling. A chill wind out of the east sliced through Edwin’s coat like a scythe through wheat. His stomach rumbled, for he’d had nothing to eat or drink but water from a nearby stream. Warm firelight flickered through the cottage window, and when Edwin drew near, he could smell the cottager’s supper cooking inside. Barley stew, he thought, and bannocks baking on the hearth. If Edwin had heard even half the tales about enchanted forests and the misadventures of widow’s sons, he might have turned away from the cottage and slept on the cold ground instead …

#

THE WEREWOLF
by Jonathan Lenore Kastin

Jonathan Lenore Kastin (he/they) is a queer, trans writer with an MFA in writing from the Vermont College of Fine Arts. His short stories can be found in On Spec and Cosmic Roots and Eldritch Shores, as well as the anthologies Ab(solutely) NormalTransmogrify! and Queer Beasties.

***

It was late April when Amelia realized that she was a werewolf. She was reading in her room one evening and as the moon came out from behind a cloud it fixed her with a pale, trembling beam of light. She froze at once, sniffed the wind, and took off her skin. Underneath grew a radiant coat of fur and one by one her senses came alive to the night.

The next day she tried to tell her mother.

“I’m a werewolf,” she said, picking leaves out of her golden hair.

Her mother patted her on the head. “That’s nice dear. Maybe Aunt Matilda will make you a costume for Halloween.”

“No,” said Amelia. “I’m a real werewolf. With fur and claws and everything.”

“Well,” said her mother. “As long as you don’t stay out in the woods too late.” She went back to her magazines …

#

FRUITING BODIES
by Xauri’EL Zwaan

Xauri’EL Zwaan is a mendicant artist in search of meaning, fame and fortune, or pie (where available). Zie lives and writes in a little hobbit hole in Saskatoon, Canada on Treaty 6 territory with zir life partner and two very lazy cats.

***

There was a strange plant in Mrs. Edgerington’s garden.

The plant looked like a tiny clamshell sprouting up out of the ground. It had a smooth surface, glistened with a dull silver sheen, and ended in a sharp knife-like ridge. It didn’t look like anything she had ever seen before. In fact, it hardly looked like a plant at all, though it certainly grew like one. Mrs. Edgerington had her grandson look on the internet to see what it was, but he couldn’t find anything matching the description. He told her she should dig it up and burn it, but Mrs. Edgerington liked weird plants, and she decided to let it grow and see what happened.

The plant slowly got bigger and bigger over the next few months. Neither water nor lack of water affected its rate of growth, nor did shade or sun. It eventually grew to about a foot in height and half a foot in width …

#

XI BOX
by T. R. Napper

T. R. Napper is a multi-award winning science fiction author, including the Australian Aurealis twice. His short fiction has appeared in Asimov’s, Interzone, the Magazine of Fantasy & Science Fiction, and numerous others, and been translated into Hebrew, German, French, and Vietnamese. Before turning to writing, T. R. Napper was a diplomat and aid worker, delivering humanitarian programs in Southeast Asia for a decade. During this period, he received a commendation from the Government of Laos for his work with the poor. He also was a resident of the Old Quarter in Hanoi for several years, the setting for his debut novel, 36 Streets. These days he has returned to his home country of Australia, where he works as a Dungeon Master, running campaigns for young people with autism for a local charity.

***

The first thing Joshua Lee did was whisper his dreams into the Xi Box. Snatching up those fragments running around the plughole of his hippocampus, before they faded from view. Before they could be absorbed into the back fabric of his mind.

After his dreams, he confessed his feelings. His fears, mainly.

The little things, to start with. The Infected woman at work who’d accused Joshua of stealing her lunch. He’d told her no, even though he had; he’d eaten it all, container perched on his lap in a darkened file room. Then the slow-burning fear: he’d fail to pass probation in his new position. Corollary: the already unsustainable mortgage on their two-bedroom apartment burying them.

Then the biggest fear.

Jess would go over. That part of her wanted to become Infected. Like so many others. The simplicity of it, the relief of being able to join the Children of Heaven, though she would never admit it …

#

KRISTIN, WITH CAPRICE
by Alan Smale

Alan Smale is the double Sidewise Award-winning author of the Clash of Eagles trilogy, and his shorter fiction has appeared in Asimov’s and numerous other magazines and original anthologies. His latest novel, Hot Moon, came out last year from CAEZIK SF & Fantasy. When he is not busy creating wonderful new stories, he works as an astrophysicist and data archive manager at NASA’s Goddard Space Flight Center.

***

He did not ring the bell. Strange enough to have to knock on his own front door, when the key was in his pocket. He heard a strange bleating sound from within, quickly suppressed. Then footsteps, and his heart began to thump a little harder.

Kristin opened the door and stared at him. Her hair was in a bandanna and she wore an old softball tee-shirt. Around her eyes were traces of yesterday’s makeup. House-cleaning, then. Scrubbing away the last of him.

She looked so gorgeous he wanted to cry.

“I came for my things,” he said.

“If you’d called, I could have been out.” She stood aside to let him in. Reluctantly.

“That’s not necessary,” said Paul. “You don’t have to do that. You look great.”

“Yes, it is,” she replied. “Yes, I do. No, I really don’t. Your stuff’s in the spare room.” She walked into the kitchen and he heard the strange squeal again. Perhaps the sound of a sponge against the inside of the oven? …

#

THE DREADNOUGHT AGAMEMNON, ON COURSE TO CONQUER THE PEACEFUL MOON OF RE
by Dafydd McKimm

Dafydd McKimm is a speculative short fiction writer whose stories have appeared in publications such as Flash Fiction OnlineDaily Science FictionDeep Magic, The Cafe Irreal, and elsewhere. He was born and raised in Wales but now lives in Taipei, Taiwan. You can find him online at www.dafyddmckimm.com

***

As when an airship, streaming westward soon after dawn into the city, is silhouetted by the sun and dilates like a pupil as it makes its final approach with the slow, steady pace of massive things;

so the dreadnought Agamemnon, on course to conquer the peaceful moon of Re, awoke;

and as when you descend the gangway and take your first steps along the city’s arabesque of streets, not knowing where you are going, for you’ve never visited this city before and have no friends or place to stay or any idea of how to speak the language that permeates the air like the chatter of strange insects wherever you go, or what you will do now that you’re here, thinking for a moment that perhaps you should go back, back to where you came from and the safety of it, the security of its familiar pathways and customs, the blissful boredom of doing things the way you’ve been told for so long they’re second nature; but no, no, you’ll never go back to that—never—and so you walk on, wandering the city without a destination, not understanding a word, not knowing what food is good to eat or indeed how to ask for it, and even when you do manage to get something onto a plate in front of you, worrying that you might commit some awful impropriety so that those around you, those people who have known this city and the ways of this city from birth, will laugh at you and mock you as stranger, foreigner, and yet finding small comfort in knowing that at least your old life is behind you, that you have shed your past like the pale, translucent skin of a snake and can begin anew here, in this city, which is so beautiful, with its painted houses perched on forested hills and markets full of sweet temptations and patterned fabrics and parks dotted with statues of creatures from myths you’ve never heard of and noisy processions that pop and fizzle and chime with the ring and crash and keening of unfamiliar instruments and temples to so many different gods …

#

PABLOVISION
by Deborah L. Davitt

Deborah L. Davitt was raised in Nevada, but currently lives in Houston, Texas with her husband and son. Her poetry and prose have appeared in over fifty journals, including, F&SFAnalog, and Lightspeed. For more about her work, including her novels, poetry collections, and her recent chapbook, From Voyages Unending, please see www.edda-earth.com

***

The object of backpacking through Europe in your twenties is to see strange things—or at least to look at the world through new eyes. You only get so many chances to paint old walls and ruined fortresses; to capture the patina of time itself.

Drew took a bus into Spain, figuring he would hike the Pyrenes while the weather remained good; the driver woke him in the gray of dawn and turfed him in a village that Drew’s phone informed him was Santa Pau. His phone further told him that the ancient walls he saw, which captured the dawn’s light so enchantingly, had been built in the thirteenth century.

Enraptured, he set up his easel in an out-of-the-way spot. He had charcoals with him, and he wanted to capture some of the spirit of this place, before he lost this magical moment. Maybe even mix some watercolors, try to catch the evanescent colors on paper so that when he had an opportunity to work on canvas later, it would be easier for his late-dreaming mind to recall what his eyes saw now …

#

A FEAST OF MEMORIES
by R.D. Harris

R.D. Harris lives with his family of four in Arizona and works as a biomedical technician by day. He loves the Carolina Tarheels, time with his kids, and SpongeBob. His work has appeared in Little Blue MarbleTerraform[Motherboard], and Galaxy’s Edge magazine.

***

We were hidden in his garden, where he wanted to die. The garden in our hollow where he taught me about life and how to be a man.

“Dad,” I said, tears blinding me, “you know where we are?”

His fading cognition and memory broke my heart. My hero and life-long role model couldn’t remember who I was half the time.

Eyes half-open, tired, Dad said, “On the ground,” with a mustered grin.

I couldn’t help but laugh. It was bittersweet, though, as the shimmering caterpillars squirmed from their vegetable meals to my dad’s girth atop the tilled soil. They scaled his body from all sides and froze on his stomach, waiting until it was time.

I cradled his half-bald head and whispered, “We’re in the garden like you wanted.” I kissed his forehead.

“The mimics?” he uttered, eyeing the larvae that patiently waited for him to pass on. Dad’s memory was serving him well. I hoped it would serve the mimics too …

~~~

Last week we posted Mike Resnick’s very first Editor’s Word where he shared some colorful history on science fiction magazines. Now, join us next week when we hear from Mr. Resnick again as he regales us with stories about some of the writers and editors who made up our favorite fiction field.

~~~

Follow Arc Manor Books at:
Twitter / Facebook / Instagram

GALAXY’S EDGE MAGAZINE: A LOOK BACK TO ISSUE ONE

Ten years ago, Mike Resnick started Galaxy’s Edge magazine with a desire to share “some pretty good stories.” Today, we take you back to that inaugural issue for a look back on the history of science fiction magazines as told by Mr. Resnick in the very first Editor’s Word. ~Enjoy!

#

THE EDITOR’S WORD
by Mike Resnick

~ March 2013 ~

Welcome to the premier issue of Galaxy’s Edge. We’ll be coming around every two months with a mixture of new stories and reprints, reviews and columns. Almost all the reprints will be by very-well-known authors; most of the new stories will be by less-well-known (but not less talented) authors.

We’re very proud to be the latest addition to the pantheon of science fiction magazines, which have a pair of histories—one long and glorious, the other just as long but inglorious (and infinitely more interesting).

You think not?

Let me share some of it with you before the last of us Old Guys (and Gals) pass from the scene and there’s no one left to remember the Untold History of the Science Fiction Magazines anymore.

***

The Shaver Mystery

In 1938, Ray Palmer, an undersized hunchback with a pretty thorough understanding of his readership, took over the editorship of Amazing Stories. At the time, John Campbell’s Astounding Science Fiction, featuring the best of Heinlein, Asimov, Sturgeon, Hubbard, van Vogt, de Camp, Simak, and Kuttner, ruled supreme among the magazines—but then Palmer came up with a gimmick that changed everything: the Shaver Mystery.

He ran a novel—rather generic, rather poorly written—called I Remember Lemuria! It was all about these creatures called Deros that lived hidden away from humanity but were preparing to do dire things to us. Nothing special in any way—

—except that Palmer swore to his readers, who consisted mostly of impressionable teen-aged boys, that the story was true, and that Richard Shaver was forced by the Powers That Be to present it as fiction or no one—including Ziff-Davis, Palmer’s bosses—would dare risk publishing it.

Sounds silly, doesn’t it?

Well, the really silly part came next: while Palmer was running another dozen or so “Shaver Mystery novels”—each worse than the last—from 1945 to 1948, his circulation skyrocketed. Amazing passed Astounding, spread-eagled the field, and became the top-selling science fiction magazine, not only of that era, but of any era.

I’ll tell you a little story about the Shaver Mystery. Back when I was editing men’s magazines in Chicago in the late 1960s, I used, among others, a very talented artist, slightly older than myself, named Bill Dichtl. One day we got to talking, and found out we were both science fiction fans, and Bill told me about his adventures with the Shaver Mystery.

He was a 14-year-old subscriber to Amazing in the late 1940s, living in Chicago (where Amazing was published), and one day he got a mysterious phone call, asking if he would like to help in the secret war against the Deros. Of course he said he would. He was given an address to go to that Friday night, and was warned to tell no one about this assignation.

So on Friday night, Bill sneaked out of his house and dutifully went to the address, which happened to be the building that housed the Ziff-Davis publishing empire. He took the elevator up to the appointed floor, found himself in a darkened corridor, saw a single light coming out from beneath a door at the far end of it, walked to the door, saw it was the room number he had been given, and entered. There was a long table, and maybe a dozen other earnest teen-aged boys were sitting at it.

Bill took a seat, and they all waited in silence. About ten minutes later a little hunchbacked man entered the room. It was Ray Palmer, of course. He explained that the Deros would soon be making their move against an unsuspecting humanity, and it was the duty of the boys in that room to spend the rest of the night warning as many people as possible of the coming struggle so they wouldn’t be caught unaware.

He had lists of thousands of addresses, which the boys dutifully copied onto blank envelopes. He had thousands of folded and stapled “warnings” that they stuffed into the envelopes. He had thousands of stamps that they licked and stuck onto the envelopes. They finished at sunrise, and Palmer swore them all to secrecy and thanked them for helping to save humanity.

Bill had stuffed a copy of the warning into his pocket to give to his parents, just in case they had somehow been omitted from the mailing list. On the subway home, he opened it and read it—and found out that Palmer had duped the boys into mailing out thousands of subscription renewal notices.

By 1949 Palmer was gone. He started Other Worlds, hired a gorgeous Cincinnati fan, Bea Mahaffey, to edit it for him, and even brought Shaver along. (To this day, some people think Palmer was Shaver. They were wrong; he was actually seen with Palmer by some fans and pros. Someone purporting to be Shaver wrote some letters to Richard Geis’ Hugo-winning fanzine, Science Fiction Review, in the 1970s, but no one ever saw him or followed up on it.)

Palmer’s gimmick at Other Worlds was to get readers to pressure Edgar Rice Burroughs, Inc. to hire his discovery, “John Bloodstone,” as the legal successor to Burroughs. (“Bloodstone” was actually Palmer’s pal, hack writer Stuart J. Byrne, who had written a copyright-infringing novel, Tarzan On Mars, that Palmer wanted to publish.) ERB Inc. refused, and that was the end of that, and pretty much the end of Other Worlds (though you can still find illegally-photocopied copies of Tarzan On Mars for sale here and there).

Palmer’s final stop was at Fate Magazine, begun in 1949, where he got rich one last time off a gullible reading public.

As for Shaver, not a single word of the million-plus that he wrote remains in print.

***

The Prediction Issue

The November 1948 issue of Astounding was typical of its era. It was not the best issue that John Campbell edited that year, nor was it the worst, and like all other issues of Astounding prior to 1950, it was far superior to its competitors.

Astounding’s letter column was (and still is) “Brass Tacks,” and in that particular issue there was a cute letter by a Richard A. Hoen who, like most fanboys, went over the most recent issue story by story, explaining in goshwowboyoboy fashion what he liked and disliked and why. Robert A. Heinlein’s “Gulf” was pretty good, though not quite up to Beyond This Horizon, opined Mr. Hoen. He ranked it second best in the issue, just ahead of A. E. van Vogt’s “Final Command,” with Lester del Rey’s “Over the Top” coming in fourth. He wasn’t much impressed with L. Sprague de Camp’s “Finished,” which was fifth, and he absolutely hated Theodore Sturgeon’s “What Dead Men Tell,” ranking it last. Mr. Hoen also had words of praise for the cover painting by Hubert Rogers.

Only one problem: he was ranking the stories in the November 1949 issue, and of course none of them existed. It was a cute conceit, everyone got a chuckle out of it, and everyone immediately forgot it.

Except Campbell, who went out of his way to make it come true.

The November 1949 issue of Astounding featured the first part of Heinlein’s serial, “Gulf”; Sturgeon’s “What Dead Men Tell”; de Camp’s “Finished”; van Vogt’s “Final Command”; and del Rey’s “Over the Top.” And of course it had a cover by Rogers.

There was only one place the prediction fell short. Mr. Hoen had ranked a story called “We Hail,” by Don A. Stuart, first. Don A. Stuart was Campbell’s pseudonym when he was writing works of ambition (such as “Twilight”) rather than space opera, and was taken from his first wife’s maiden name, Dona Stuart. Well, Campbell didn’t write a story for the issue—but in its place he ran the first part of “And Now You Don’t,” the three-part serial that formed the climax of Isaac Asimov’s Foundation Trilogy. I don’t imagine anyone had any serious objections to the substitution.

So when you hear writers like me say that science fiction isn’t really in the predicting business, just remind us of the November 1948 Astounding.

***

The Magazines are Officially Noticed

Science fiction tends to cry and carry on because no one pays any attention to it, that it’s a ghetto beneath the notice of the New York Literary Establishment and most of the Powers That Be in academia.

And yet science fiction has been officially Noticed (and more than once) by the United States Government, and that was long before that government started naming weapons and defense systems after rather silly science fiction movies.

Back in the Good Old Days of the pulps, more often than not the cover art showed a partially-clad (or, if you prefer, a mostly-unclad) girl, usually at the mercy of aliens who seemed more interested in ripping off the rest of her clothes than doing anything practical, like killing or communicating with her.

The thing is (and I refer you to the two introductory articles in my anthology, Girls For the Slime God), only one magazine actually delivered the salacious stories that went hand-in-glove with those cover illos, and that magazine was Marvel Science Stories. The first issue, back in August of 1938, featured Henry Kuttner’s “The Avengers of Space,” a rather pedestrian novella to which I suspect he added all the sex scenes after it had been turned down by the major markets. Then out came issue number two, and there was Kuttner with another novella of the same ilk: “The Time Trap.”

What was the result?

Well, there were two results. The first was that Kuttner was labeled a debased and perverted hack, and had to create Lewis Padgett and Lawrence O’Donnell, his two most famous pseudonyms (but far from his only ones) in order to make a living, since it would be a few years before the top editors wanted to buy from Henry Kuttner again.

The second was that the United States government, through its postal branch, gave science fiction its very first official recognition. They explained to the publisher that if the third issue of Marvel was as sexy as the first two, they were shutting him down and sending him to jail.

And with that, Marvel Science Stories became the most sedate and—let’s be honest—dull science fiction magazine on the market. It died not too long thereafter, the first prozine to be slain by the government.

But the government wasn’t quite through Noticing the prozines. Move the clock ahead five years, to March 1944, which was when Astounding, under the editorship of John Campbell, published a forgettable little story called “Deadline,” by Cleve Cartmill.

It became one of the most famous stories in the history of the prozines—not because of its quality, which was minimal, but because it brought the prozines to the official notice of the government for the second time.

We were embroiled in World War II, and in early 1944 the Manhattan Project—the project that resulted in the atomic bomb—was still our most carefully-guarded secret.

And Cartmill’s story, which used knowledge and facts that were available to anyone, concerned the construction of an atomic bomb that used U-235.

Cartmill was visited by the FBI and other select governmental agencies the week the story came out, each demanding to know how he had managed to steal the secrets of the bomb. He pointed out that his “secrets” were a matter of public record. He was nonetheless warned never to breach national security again, upon pain of truly dire consequences.

The government representatives then went to Campbell’s office, where he explained to them, as only Campbell could, that if they were not uneducated, subliterate dolts they would know exactly where Cartmill got his information, and that Astounding had been running stories about atomic power for years. They tried to threaten him into promising not to run any more stories of atomic power until the war was over. Campbell didn’t take kindly to threats, and allowed them to leave only after giving them a thorough tongue-lashing and an absolute refusal to censor his writers.

So the next time you hear a writer or editor bemoaning the fact that science fiction doesn’t get any notice, point out to him that there were actually a couple of occasions in the past when we got a little more official notice than we wanted.

***

Vietnam and the Magazines

Nothing since the War Between the States aroused more passions on both sides than did the Vietnam War. In 1968 Judith Merril and Kate Wilhelm decided to do something about it: they enlisted a large number of writers—the final total was 82—and took out ads against the war in the March issue of F&SF and the June issues of Galaxy and If. Included in their number were most of the younger New Wave writers such as Harlan Ellison, Barry Malzberg, Norman Spinrad, Robert Silverberg, Philip K. Dick, Terry Carr, and Ursula K. Le Guin, as well as a smattering of old masters like Isaac Asimov, Ray Bradbury, and Fritz Leiber.

Word got out—the rumor is that it was leaked by Fred Pohl, Merril’s ex-husband—and the pro-war faction also ran ads in all three magazines. (Pohl had them on facing pages in his two magazines.) Included in the ads were Robert A. Heinlein, Poul Anderson, John W. Campbell Jr. (the only then-current editor to appear on either list), Fredric Brown, Hal Clement, Larry Niven, Jack Vance, and Jack Williamson. The pro-war ads contained only 72 names, leading the anti-war faction to claim that they had “won.”

Pohl was editing both Galaxy and If, and he offered to donate the ad revenues to the person who came up with the best “solution” to the Vietnam War. It was won by Mack Reynolds, but Pohl never published his “solution”; runners-up were Hubert Humphrey, Lyndon Johnson, and Richard Nixon.

***

Saving the Lensman

E. E. “Doc” Smith was clearly the most famous and most popular writer of the late 1920s and most of the 1930s as well. He broke new ground with the Skylark series, but it was the four Lensman books upon which his fame and adoration rests. (Yes, four; the first two in the six-book series were afterthoughts, Triplanetary being expanded and rewritten to become the chronological first in the series, First Lensman written last of all to fill a gap between Triplanetary and the four Kimball Kinnison books.)

Doc introduced Kimball Kinnison, the Gray Lensman, to the world in 1937, with Galactic Patrol, which ran in Astounding from September 1937 to February 1938—just about the time a young John Campbell was beginning his lifelong tenure as editor and preparing to reshape the field. This was followed in a few years by The Gray Lensman and then Second Stage Lensman.

But while Doc was slowly completing the saga of the Kinnison clan, Campbell was bringing Robert A. Heinlein, Isaac Asimov, Theodore Sturgeon, and A. E. van Vogt into the field, and finding room for Fritz Leiber, Clifford D. Simak, and L. Sprague de Camp.

Doc was many things as a writer, but graceful wasn’t one of them, and subtle wasn’t another. It didn’t matter when he was competing against the likes of Nat Schachner and Ray Cummings and Stanton A. Coblentz—but against Campbell’s stable he seemed like a dinosaur, thousands of evolutionary eons behind where Campbell had pushed, pulled and dragged the field.

So when he delivered the climactic volume of the Lensman saga, Children of the Lens, Campbell didn’t want to run it. It just didn’t belong in a magazine that had published “Nightfall” and “Sixth Column” and “Slan” years earlier.

One fan had the courage to seek Campbell out and disagree. He’s the one who told me this story, and Campbell later kind of sort of grudgingly agreed that it was pretty much the truth. Ed Wood (the fan, not the movie director), who’d been active in fandom for a few years, and would be active for another 50, cornered Campbell and explained that he owed it to Doc, who had given him the original Lensman story when Astounding badly needed it, to buy Children of the Lens. Moreover, he owed it to the field, for we were not then a book field, and if Doc’s novel didn’t run in Astounding, there was an excellent chance that it would never see the light of day. Campbell finally agreed. The novel appeared without the customary fanfare accorded to a new Doc Smith book, and was the only Lensman novel to receive just a single cover, though it ran for six issues beginning in November of 1947.

So for those of you who are Lensman fans—and tens of thousands of people still are, more than half a century later—you owe two debts of gratitude, one to Doc for writing it, and another to a motivated fan, Ed Wood, for making sure you got to find out how it all ended for Kimball Kinnison and his offspring.

***

How Unknown Was Born

Ask 20 experts (or fans; there’s not much difference) which was the greatest science fiction magazine of all time, and you’ll get some votes for the 1940s Astounding, the 1950s Galaxy, the 1960s New Worlds, the 1970s F&SF, and the 1990s Asimov’s.

Now ask that same group to name the greatest fantasy magazine, and the odds are that at least 19 will answer Unknown. It was that good, that unique, and remains that dominant in the minds of the readers.

How did it begin?

There are two versions.

The first is that John Campbell wanted to start a fantasy magazine, he convinced Street & Smith to publish it, he called it Unknown, and it ran 43 issues until the wartime paper shortage killed it off.

The other version, which has been repeated in dozens of venues, is that Campbell was sitting at his desk at Astounding, reading submissions, and he came to a novel, Sinister Barrier, by Eric Frank Russell. It was too good to turn down, but it didn’t fit into the format he had created for Astounding, and hence there was nothing to do but create a brand-new magazine, Unknown, which could run stories like Sinister Barrier and Fritz Leiber’s Gray Mouser stories, and Theodore Sturgeon’s “Yesterday Was Monday” and Robert A. Heinlein’s Magic, Inc., and that’s how Unknown came into being. A number of histories of the field have reported that this was the start of Unknown.

Which version is true?

The first one, of course—but the second one is so fascinating and evocative that I suspect it’ll never die, and if we all keep repeating it enough, why, in another 60 years or so, it’ll be History. (See my novel The Outpost to discover how these things work.)

***

Walter Who?

It all began with a radio show hosted by a mysterious male character known only as the Shadow. The show was owned by Street & Smith, the huge magazine publisher, and when it became increasingly obvious that the Shadow was far more popular than the show, they decided they’d better do something to copyright and trademark him before it was too late—so they decided to publish a one-shot pulp magazine about a crimefighter known as the Shadow.

To write the story, they hired magician and sometime pulp author Walter Gibson, and, for whatever initial reason, they decided to have him write it as “Maxwell Grant.”

The rest is history. That first issue of The Shadow sold out in record time. Street & Smith immediately ordered more novels from Gibson—who was getting $500.00 a novel, not bad pay in the depths of the depression—and in mere months The Shadow was selling more than a million copies an issue.

So Street & Smith decided the next step was to go semi-monthly. They called Gibson into their offices and asked if he was capable of turning out a Shadow novel every 15 days. Gibson said he could do it, but since it was no secret that The Shadow had, almost overnight, become the best-selling pulp magazine in America, he wanted a piece of this bonanza. He wasn’t going to be greedy or hold them up for some phenomenal sum. He’d write two novels a month, never miss a deadline, and keep the quality as high as it had been—but in exchange, he wanted a raise to $750.00 a novel.

His loving, doting publishers immediately metamorphosed into businessmen and said No.

Gibson thought he had them over a barrel. You give me $750.00 a novel, he said, or I’ll leave and take my audience with me.

Leave if you want, said Street & Smith, but next week there will be a new Maxwell Grant writing The Shadow for us, and who will know the difference?

It took Gibson ten seconds to realize that far from having Street & Smith over a barrel, they had him inside the barrel. He went back home and continued to write Shadow novels for $500.00 a shot.

This ploy worked so well that when Street & Smith began publishing Doc Savage, which was primarily written by Lester Dent, all the novels were credited to “Kenneth Robeson.”

Rivals saw the beauty in this—Street & Smith didn’t exactly have a monopoly on publishing’s notion of fair play and morality—and thus The Spider novels, written mostly by Norvell Page, bore the pseudonym of “Grant Stockbridge.”

“Kenneth Robeson,” Doc Savage’s author, was so popular that “he” also became the author of The Avenger pulp series.

And so on. Soon all the other “hero pulps”—pulps with a continuing hero and cast of characters, such as the above-mentioned—were written under house names, so that no author could either hold up the publishers for a living wage or leave and force the magazine to close down.

There was only one exception.

Edmond Hamilton wrote most of the 22 Captain Future novels under his own name.

The reason?

He was the only established science fiction writer working for Better Publications, Cap’s publisher, and his employers freely admitted that no one else in the house knew the first damned thing about writing that crazy Buck Rogers stuff.

***

The Mystery of Edson McCann

One day Horace Gold, the editor/publisher of Galaxy, got the notion of having a contest for the best novel by an unknown writer. He offered a prize of $7,000—more than the average American made in a year back then—and was immediately whelmed over by hundreds of booklength manuscripts, 99% of them dreadful and the other 1% even worse. (Ask anyone who has ever read a slush pile. This was nothing unusual or unexpected—at least, not by anyone except Horace.)

Horace had already bought Gravy Planet (later to become The Space Merchants, which eventually outsold, worldwide, just about every other science fiction novel ever written except perhaps for Dune.) When he couldn’t find an even mildly acceptable novel among the entries, he approached Fred Pohl and Cyril Kornbluth and said he’d like Gravy Planet to be the winner. The stipulation, though, was that it had to appear under a pseudonym, since the contest had to be won by an unknown.

Pohl and Kornbluth talked it over, decided they could get $7,000 from normal serial and book rights, and opted to keep their names on it, which disqualified it from the contest.

Now Gold was getting desperate. The deadline was almost upon him, and he still hadn’t found a single publishable novel among all the entries. So he turned to Pohl again.

Pohl and his Milford neighbor, Lester del Rey (a whole passel of science fiction writers lived in Milford, Pennsylvania back in the 1950s) had decided to collaborate on a novel about the future of the insurance industry, called Preferred Risk. Gold begged them to use a pseudonym and let it be the contest winner. Lester was less concerned with receiving credit for his work than Kornbluth was—or perhaps he was more concerned with a quick profit. At any rate, he agreed, and Pohl went along with him.

They divided up the pen name. Pohl chose “Edson” for a first name, and del Rey came up with “McCann”. They invented a whole life for him (for the magazine’s bio of the contest winner), in which he was a nuclear physicist working on such a top secret hush-hush project that Galaxy couldn’t divulge any of the details of his life.

And so it was that Preferred Risk, commissioned from two top professionals by Horace Gold, won the $7,000 prize for the Best Novel By An Unknown.

And why did they choose “Edson McCann”?

Well, if you break it down to its initials, it’s “E. McC”—or E equals MC squared.

***

The No-Budget Magazines

Hugo Gernsback is considered the Father of Science Fiction. That title is more than a little at odds with the facts, since Mary Shelley, Jules Verne and H.G. Wells were writing it long before Hugo came along—but Hugo named the field and was the first publisher to bring out a magazine devoted entirely to “scientifiction” (Amazing Stories in 1926).

Parenthetically, he also guaranteed that we would be inundated with bad science fiction for years to come…because by creating a market for science fiction, he gave it a place where it no longer had to compete with the best of the other categories. Science fiction writers no longer had to fight for spots in a magazine against Dashiell Hammett and James T. Cain and Frank Gruber and Max Brand; now they competed with Ray Cummings and Nat Schachner and Ross Rocklynne. The first—and for years only—science fiction magazine in the world was edited by Hugo Gernsback, an immigrant whose knowledge of the English language was minimal, and whose knowledge of story construction was nil. He felt science fiction’s sole purpose was to interest adolescent boys in becoming scientists, and that was pretty much the way he edited.

The way he published was even worse. He liked to buy stories, but he hated to pay for them. Finally Donald A. Wollheim took him to court for the $10.00 he was owed. Neither Gernsback nor Wollheim ever forgot it.

Now move the clock ahead a few years, to about 1940. Wollheim had helped form the Futurians, that incredibly talented group of youngsters that would someday dominate the field. Among its members were Cyril Kornbluth, Damon Knight, Judith Merril, Frederik Pohl, Isaac Asimov, Robert A.W. Lowndes, James Blish, and Wollheim himself (and indeed, in a year or two they’d be editing just about every magazine in the field except for John Campbell’s Astounding).

Anyway, while Pohl edited Astonishing and Super Science on a pitifully small budget, Wollheim picked up two of his own to edit: Cosmos and Stirring Science. Their pages abounded in stories by Futurians Kornbluth, Pohl, Lowndes, and Knight, with illos by the finest Futurian artist, Hannes Bok. Those magazines put many of the Futurians on the map.

And do you know why Wollheim used Futurians almost exclusively?

Because his budget was Zero—not small, not minimal, but zero—and only his fellow Futurians would work for free for the man who once sued Hugo Gernsback for $10 that was owed on a story.

***

Horace Gold Goes Out to Play

Horace Gold returned home from World War II a disabled veteran … but his disability took a most peculiar form: agoraphobia. He was literally afraid to leave the comfort and security of his New York apartment.

It didn’t stop him from selling investors on the idea of Galaxy magazine. And it didn’t stop him from editing it, and turning it into (in my opinion) the only serious rival the Astounding of the late 1930s and early 1940s had for the title of Best Science Fiction Magazine of All Time.

He turned part of his apartment into an office. He worked at home, he ate at home, he slept at home, he wrote at home, he edited at home. Any writer who wanted a face-to-face with Horace visited him at home. He hosted a regular Friday night poker game that included his stable of writers: Bob Sheckley, Phil Klass (William Tenn), Fred Pohl, and Algis Budrys. Lester del Rey occasionally sat in, as did rival editor (of F&SF) Tony Boucher.

And because they were his friends, and they thought they were doing him a favor, this coterie of card-players and writers was constantly urging Horace to go outside, to breathe in the fresh air (well, Manhattan’s approximation of it, anyway), to just take a walk around the neighborhood so that he would know there were no secret dangers lurking beyond the doors of his apartment. They urged, and they cajoled, and they implored, and finally the big day came.

Horace Gold left his apartment for the first time in years—

—and was promptly hit by a taxi.

(There is a second version of this story, in which he actually spent a few evenings wandering around Manhattan, and then got into a crash while riding home in a taxi. Either way, the result was the same. He stopped eating, stopped editing, and was eventually institutionalized.)

Conclusion: the science fiction (and related) magazines have a long and fascinating history. My fondest hope is that if they talk about Galaxy’s Edge twenty or thirty years from now, it will only be to say that we ran some pretty good stories.

***

Mike here again. Okay, now you know a bit about the magazines. Next issue I’ll tell you about some of the writers and editors who make up this colorful field.

~~~

It’s a blessing this Science Fiction/Fantasy story magazine that you started, Mr. Resnick, hung in there for ten lovely years, and we can say with confidence that you and Lezli definitely published “some pretty good stories.” ♥

Join us next week when we share some snippets of those stories gracing Galaxy’s Edge magazine’s last issue … and then, we’ll be back with more history of the magazine as shared with us ten years ago, by our friend and mentor to many, Mike Resnick.

~~~

Follow Arc Manor Books at:
Twitter / Facebook / Instagram

PROJECTS WE LOVE TO LOVE: FANTASY AND FAERIES—A KICKSTARTER TALE

*We’re taking a break from our regularly scheduled program to squee over a new novel/KS project that has just dropped.

BOBBIN AND THE MAGIC THIEF

**With only 11 days of this project left on Kickstarter, we’re going to shout it from the rooftops for the limited time remaining, and we hope you’ll join us in supporting and sharing.

The genre is everything faeries and is classified by the author as children’s/middle-grade. This just means it’s appropriate from about ages 8 and up. However, as a middle-aged reader (far, far away from middle grade!), I can say I’ve read this novel twice and enjoyed it more each time! ♥

The information below is from the author’s KS page … AND there’s even more to be found if you head over THERE now: you can watch the author’s video and meet the characters!

WHAT’S IT ABOUT?

Bobbin wasn’t like other faeries… music didn’t entrance her.

But was it a secret blessing?

When an opportunistic thief spies a faerie spinning gold, he snatches her, and hatches a plan for his true goal: to steal the enchanting singing voice of the miller’s daughter.

Faced with losing one of the few people who accepts her as she is, Bobbin must face her fears and find the determination to get her back–even if it means breaking faerie law.

And her chance of success may rest in her resistance to the melodic voice.

Set in Rose Valley, our story weaves through farms and fields, haunted forests and ill-managed estates, ancient greed and new friendships.

FROM THE AUTHOR:

In case you haven’t guessed, this story is a retelling of Rumpelstiltskin…but told from a very different point of view.

I’ve always loved folk and faerie tales. I also love history and tend to fall down rabbit holes pursuing my latest interest.

In all the things I’ve read, I’ve noticed there are only a handful of popular tales depicting the importance of weaving and spinning as societies developed. That seemed odd to me, since before the industrial revolution of textiles, all cloth was made by hand, whether for clothing, rugs, tapestry, curtains, bed linens, towels, or sails for ships.

That’s a lot of weaving!

I also found few tales of this type with faeries in them; even though fae are often included in tales due to their magical influence. (And who wouldn’t want a little extra help with making all that cloth?)

So, I decided to create retellings of faerie tales that had elements of spinning and weaving. And include faeries.

So who am I and why do I want your money?

I’m a multi-genre indie author and creative. I’ve had short stories published in anthologies of several different genres including historical, romance, high and urban fantasy. I’ve received several Honorable Mentions, including a Silver, from the Writers of the Future contest and am excited to be at the beginnings of a long writing career.

I believe in the charm of the Spindle Faeries I’ve created and want to give this first book of the series the best entry into the world I can. I’ve put a lot into this book: time, vision, money. That included hiring the talents of others such as my wonderful paper cut artist, Kathryn Carr, and my editor, Liz Colter. It also included investing in apps and programs to make it the best I could.

It’s been hard work, but also a labor of love.

Head over to Kickstarter HERE to learn more about this project, the REWARDS, the ADD ONS, and the STRETCH GOALS.

We as authors and publishers know the hours and effort it takes to bring a book to life. This author has worked for years on this, a project borne of love and passion, and we ask that you join us in celebrating this wonderful book; a story of faeries brought to life, a hand-spun tale of friendship, and a journey that takes Bobbin away from home, all the while bringing her closer to those she loves.

*Arc Manor is not affiliated with this novel, author, or Kickstarter project.
**We just love good books ♥

~~~

Follow Arc Manor Publishers at:
Twitter / Facebook / Instagram

SIX MUST-READ FANTASY NOVELS BY WOMEN AUTHORS

March is Women’s History Month, and so we find ourselves celebrating the vital role of women throughout history.

For our part, we’re sharing six of the most fabulous and fun “must read” fantasy novels that we’ve come across, all of them written by fierce wordsmiths, moving storytellers, and women that we tip our hat to.

Thank you.

From noted short story writer Nisi Shawl comes a brilliant alternate-history novel set in the Belgian Congo.

What if the African natives developed steam power ahead of their colonial oppressors? What might have come of Belgium’s disastrous colonization of the Congo if the native populations had learned about steam technology a bit earlier?

Fabian Socialists from Great Britain join forces with African-American missionaries to purchase land from the Belgian Congo’s “owner,” King Leopold II. This land, named Everfair, is set aside as a safe haven, an imaginary Utopia for native populations of the Congo as well as escaped slaves returning from America and other places where African natives were being mistreated.

Shawl’s speculative masterpiece manages to turn one of the worst human rights disasters on record into a marvelous and exciting exploration of the possibilities inherent in a turn of history. Everfair is told from a multiplicity of voices: Africans, Europeans, East Asians, and African Americans in complex relationships with one another, in a compelling range of voices that have historically been silenced. Everfair is not only a beautiful book but an educational and inspiring one that will give the reader new insight into an often-ignored period of history.

If you knew how dark tomorrow would be, what would you do with today?

“This is the magic circus book that I have been looking for all my life.” ―Seanan McGuire, New York Times bestselling author of Every Heart A Doorway

Welcome to the Circus of the Fantasticals.

Ringmaster—Rin, to those who know her best—can jump to different moments in time as easily as her wife, Odette, soars from bar to bar on the trapeze. With the scars of World War I feeling more distant as the years pass, Rin is focusing on the brighter things in life. Like the circus she’s built and the magical misfits and outcasts ? known as Sparks ? who’ve made it their home. Every night, Rin and the Fantasticals enchant a Big Top packed full with audiences who need to see the impossible.

But while the present is bright, threats come at Rin from the past and the future. The future holds an impending war that the Sparks can see barreling toward their Big Top and everyone in it. And Rin’s past creeps closer every day, a malevolent shadow Rin can’t fully escape. It takes the form of another Spark circus, with tents as black as midnight and a ringmaster who rules over his troupe with a dangerous power. Rin’s circus has something he wants, and he won’t stop until it’s his.

Everything casts a shadow. Even the world we live in. And as with every shadow, there is a place where it must touch. A seam, where the shadow meets its source.

Olivia Prior has grown up in Merilance School for Girls, and all she has of her past is her mother’s journal—which seems to unravel into madness. Then, a letter invites Olivia to come home to Gallant. Yet when Olivia arrives, no one is expecting her. But Olivia is not about to leave the first place that feels like home; it doesn’t matter if her cousin Matthew is hostile, or if she sees half-formed ghouls haunting the hallways.

Olivia knows that Gallant is hiding secrets, and she is determined to uncover them. When she crosses a ruined wall at just the right moment, Olivia finds herself in a place that is Gallant—but not. The manor is crumbling, the ghouls are solid, and a mysterious figure rules over all. Now Olivia sees what has unraveled generations of her family, and where her father may have come from.

Olivia has always wanted to belong somewhere, but will she take her place as a Prior, protecting our world against the Master of the House? Or will she take her place beside him?

New York Times–bestselling author V. E. Schwab crafts a vivid and lush novel that grapples with the demons that are often locked behind closed doors. An eerie, stand-alone saga about life, death, and the young woman beckoned by both. Readers of Neil Gaiman, Holly Black, Melissa Albert, and Garth Nixwill quickly lose themselves in this novel with crossover appeal for all ages.

In a fallen kingdom, one girl carries the key to discovering the secrets of her nation’s past—and unleashing the demons that sleep at its heart. An epic fantasy series inspired by the mythology and folklore of ancient China.

Once, Lan had a different name. Now she goes by the one the Elantian colonizers gave her when they invaded her kingdom, killed her mother, and outlawed her people’s magic. She spends her nights as a songgirl in Haak’gong, a city transformed by the conquerors, and her days scavenging for what she can find of the past. Anything to understand the strange mark burned into her arm by her mother in her last act before she died.

The mark is mysterious—an untranslatable Hin character—and no one but Lan can see it. Until the night a boy appears at her teahouse and saves her life.

Zen is a practitioner—one of the fabled magicians of the Last Kingdom. Their magic was rumored to have been drawn from the demons they communed with. Magic believed to be long lost. Now it must be hidden from the Elantians at all costs.

When Zen comes across Lan, he recognizes what she is: a practitioner with a powerful ability hidden in the mark on her arm. He’s never seen anything like it—but he knows that if there are answers, they lie deep in the pine forests and misty mountains of the Last Kingdom, with an order of practitioning masters planning to overthrow the Elantian regime.

Both Lan and Zen have secrets buried deep within—secrets they must hide from others, and secrets that they themselves have yet to discover. Fate has connected them, but their destiny remains unwritten. Both hold the power to liberate their land. And both hold the power to destroy the world. 

Now the battle for the Last Kingdom begins.

A centuries-long peace is shattered in a matriarchal society when a decade passes without a single girl being born in this sweeping epic fantasy that’s perfect for fans of Robin Hobb and Circe.

Five hundred years of peace between queendoms shatters when girls inexplicably stop being born. As the Drought of Girls stretches across a generation, it sets off a cascade of political and personal consequences across all five queendoms of the known world, throwing long-standing alliances into disarray as each queendom begins to turn on each other—and new threats to each nation rise from within.

Uniting the stories of women from across the queendoms, this propulsive, gripping epic fantasy follows a warrior queen who must rise from childbirth bed to fight for her life and her throne, a healer in hiding desperate to protect the secret of her daughter’s explosive power, a queen whose desperation to retain control leads her to risk using the darkest magic, a near-immortal sorcerer demigod powerful enough to remake the world for her own ends—and the generation of lastborn girls, the ones born just before the Drought, who must bear the hopes and traditions of their nations if the queendoms are to survive.

From the breakout SFF superstar author of Murderbot comes a remarkable story of power and friendship, of trust and betrayal, and of the families we choose.

“I didn’t know you were a … demon.”
“You idiot. I’m the demon.”
—Kai’s having a long day in Martha Wells’s
Witch King

After being murdered, his consciousness dormant and unaware of the passing of time while confined in an elaborate water trap, Kai wakes to find a lesser mage attempting to harness Kai’s magic to his own advantage. That was never going to go well.

But why was Kai imprisoned in the first place? What has changed in the world since his assassination? And why does the Rising World Coalition appear to be growing in influence?

Kai will need to pull his allies close and draw on all his pain magic if he is to answer even the least of these questions.

He’s not going to like the answers.

Witch King is Martha Wells’s first new fantasy in over a decade, drawing together her signature ability to create characters we adore and identify with, alongside breathtaking action and adventure, and the wit and charm we’ve come to expect from one of the leading writers of her generation.

~~~

Follow Galaxy’s Edge Magazine at:
Twitter / Facebook / Instagram

GALAXY’S EDGE MAGAZINE: ISSUE 61, MARCH 2023—HIGHLIGHTS

Over at Galaxy’s Edge Magazine, the Penultimate Issue #61 has been released this month. Here are some highlights:

Continue reading “GALAXY’S EDGE MAGAZINE: ISSUE 61, MARCH 2023—HIGHLIGHTS”