William
Sanders
Senior Editor and Mean Old Bastard
Last issue saw the inauguration of a new feature, with a critical essay by John Barnes, our resident intellectual, on the present state and future of sf. As we had hoped, a good deal of controversy was generated; some found his arguments persuasive, some did not, and some took quite vigorous exception. In fact it's been quite a job cleaning up outside the gate, what with all those wooden stakes and burned-out torches and don't even get me started on the mess left by that boiling oil.
I stayed out of the controversy, and I don't intend to jump in at this late date. Frankly, I don't know enough about the history of the genre to offer any sort of informed opinion. And I don't argue with John about such matters; he uses all those big words that make my head hurt....
One thing did occur to me, though, and I toss it out not as a closely considered opinion but just for whatever it may be worth.
John brings up something that I've heard from quite a few people in recent years: the decline in interest in science fiction among younger readers. The totemic figure of this argument seems to be a hypothetical eighth-grader; if eighth-graders aren't reading sf, it is said, then the genre is in trouble, because that's where its readers come from.
And as far as I can tell, the basis for this theory is that the people who talk about it got their own start at about that age. Just recently I got into a conversation with a bunch of sf writers and readers, representing several generations — none my own age, but I suspect that wouldn't have made a difference — and almost all of them claimed to have started reading sf in their early teens, if not before.
So it's understandable that the more or less eighth-grade bracket has traditionally been taken as the entry point for readers in the genre; on the average, it would appear that this has been the case.
But — and here is where I rather diffidently raise my hand — does it then follow that it must always be so?
I didn't become an sf fan in eighth grade, or anywhere near it. I read a certain amount of sf back then, but then I read a certain amount of damn near everything; and sf certainly wasn't my favorite genre. (I preferred adventure fiction — especially anything to do with aviation— or stories about pirates, or Westerns.)
And what sf I did read didn't develop into any sort of lifelong interest. I read almost no sf in high school or college, let alone the army; I didn't really get into the genre until the late sixties, when people like Harlan Ellison and Joe Haldeman and John Brunner showed me that speculative fiction could be used to say things that needed saying, about the real, present-day world.
I don't know if I would have cared for Dangerous Visions or The Forever War or The Sheep Look Up when I was in eighth grade, but I doubt it. I do know that I've tried in later years to read some of the sf that was being published back in the early fifties, and with very few exceptions I still can't stand it. The science fiction of the Golden Age, going by what I've seen of it, was mostly dreadful — characters flat and thin as a Zig-Zag paper, clunky narrative style, and worst of all that endless talk talk talk, such talk as no real live human ever uttered....
Now God knows there's still plenty of ghastly bad sf being published today. But the overall standard is higher — and for good reason: the best of today's sf, such as you will find in this magazine, couldn't have been published back then. None of the magazines would have touched it; and why? Because it wouldn't have been suitable for that eighth-grader.
I can't speak for anyone else, but I'm not publishing stories for eighth-graders. In fact many of the stories we publish in Helix are unsuitable and inappropriate for the average youthful reader. (E.g. David Goldman's very disturbing story in the present issue.)
And even if it's true that the typical sf reader today got hooked in his/her early teens, where is it written that it must always be so? I realize my own experience was not typical, but I don't believe it was unique either.
So I wonder. Is it true that sf is dying?
Or is it just that it's finally growing up?
Lawrence
Watt-Evans
Managing Editor and Freelance Pedant
Why Not Me?
Our more devoted readers will have noticed that we've run stories by several of our staff members. William, Melanie, Bud, Berry, Doranna, John, and Robert have all contributed stories. That's seven of the ten staff members. Amy and Lynn aren't professional fiction writers. That leaves one unaccounted for.
Me.
One might justifiably ask why I haven't contributed a story. In fact, our Fearless Leader... I mean, Senior Editor has asked that, and not always very politely.
It's not that I'm not pulling my weight; I mean, I write these editorials and sign the contracts and manage the money, so I'm definitely doing my share. Still, when you have a guy on the staff who's won a short fiction Hugo, is it really too much to ask for a story from him? Some of the other folks around here have put in at least as much effort, and still managed to get suitable stories written.
I'm certainly not ideologically opposed to the idea; if I were, I wouldn't be here. But it hasn't happened.
Yet.
I've tried, actually. I did send a story once. It got rejected as really not suitable for Helix — which it wasn't, but it was the story I happened to have on hand. When Will bounced it I incorporated it into a novel, instead, and sold it to Tor, thereby demonstrating that indeed, it did not fit the Helix mission statement of publishing stuff the traditional markets won't.
(And hey, if anyone had any doubts about our editorial standards, we rejected a story by me.)
But I haven't tried again.
I have lots of excuses — for most of the time Helix has existed I had no fewer than three books past their respective deadlines, for one thing. (I turned the last of them in in September, fifteen months late.) Those kept me pretty busy. I've only written one short story since Helix was founded, and it's a silly little Christmas story that would be completely out of place here. I have a couple of unpublished older stories, but they're tied up in long-delayed projects that may eventually see print, so they aren't readily available. I've had a few health issues, but they were minor.
Those are just excuses, really. For twenty years I've been writing short stories to order for any number of markets; surely, when I've got a place like this asking for one, I can come up with something!
So why haven't I?
Because for the last thirty years I've been writing commercial fantasy, that's why.
Helix exists to publish the fine stories that other markets won't take — and I've spent most of my life learning to write the stuff those markets will take.
Ask me to write a story for a theme anthology, and I'm fine. It doesn't matter whether the theme is Alice in Wonderland or magic-based murder mysteries or unicorns or serial killers or birds of prey or galactic-scale SF or what; I've done all of those, and many more. Want a story about a haunted airport? No problem. Women in armor? Sure thing. Magical cats, teenage vampires, space-faring castles, I'm your man. The resulting story may not be brilliant, but it'll be readable and will fit the guidelines.
But a good story that wouldn't sell elsewhere? I've spent the last three decades trying not to write those. I've trained myself to write harmless entertainment, instead, and it takes an effort to break training.
Oh, I can do it. I've written a few hard-to-place stories in my day. Back when I had an agent who handled all my short fiction as well as my novels, there was one short-short that he refused to send out because he found it personally offensive — but I sold it eventually on my own. There was another story that was rejected as too nasty, but a couple of weeks later the editor changed her mind and asked for it back, because it had been haunting her ever since she turned it down. I've written stories that gave readers nightmares. I've written stories that gave me nightmares.
But not recently. There's nothing in inventory that would be even remotely suitable. Clearly, I need to write a new one. That shouldn't be impossible, should it? There aren't a lot of restrictions to worry about, and I have a fat file of unused story ideas to draw upon. I just need to settle down and do it.
And early on, I thought it would be easy. I didn't think there was any hurry; there were all those other people on the staff, and all the other fine authors out there, and I had overdue books to deliver. So I put it off, and now, when I finally start to think seriously about it, it doesn't look easy at all.
Because now Helix has published forty-some stories by other people, and they've set the bar awfully damn high. I don't just need to write a decent story that breaks a few taboos; I need to write a story I won't be embarrassed to see up there with the likes of "Tonino and the Incubus" and "City of Chimeras" and "Rod Rapid and His Electric Chair."
That's tough. That's very tough.
So that's why I haven't contributed a story yet. I'm still getting up the nerve.