FutureTense

There’s a lot of good titles here. [LocusOnline]

I have long wondered what percentage of the readers of the big three print short fiction fantasy and science fiction magazines were also writers. Mr. Gordon van Gelder offers some numbers in response to a member of the Tangent Online community who theorized that most readers of short SF are actually writers:

I would estimate that the percentage of subscribers who are also published
fiction writers is in the range of 5-10%.

It’s impossible to guess with any accuracy the percentage of readers who
want to write _someday,_ but I would say offhand that the total percentage
of our subscribers who write fiction now or hope to do so someday is roughly
20%.

And I would estimate that 15-20% of the writers who submit fiction to us also subscribe.

That’s better than I would have guessed. My own private poll put the numbers at about 80% of the subscribers I’ve talked to are writers with plans to submit.

The other bit of news: subscriber age. 40.

We conducted a reader survey in the summer of 2002. About the only generalization
I took away from the survey was that our average age of readers (both mean
and median) is 40. Otherwise, I couldn’t find much that our readers have
in common.

That frightens me. We’re still advancing one year in the average reader age for every year of the survey for at least the last three years, suggesting that we’re still not attracting many new young readers.

Best regards,
Alan

Ammended 1/9/2004

There’s a tricky aspect to having this high a percentage of writers as the audience.

Whether or not those potential submitters agree with the choice of what is published, they will rarely say anything against the status quo. If asked, they will affirm the editor’s choice independant of their own personal preference. Although I’m sure many of these potential submitters enjoy the content of the big three, I know at least some do not because they’ve told me so. However they consider their own career first when choosing to comment and don not say what they feel.

So if 20% of a readership expresses a preformed opinion–many of whom are active and powerfully involved in the community in which these editors spend every weekend–you would need at least 20% of your readership to actively express a dissenting opinion before these editors have any kind of clue.

I can’t imagine getting that kind of response, which makes proactive change very difficult because the horizon always appears sunny. Except readers keep dropping away.

A.

The fairy tale itself exhibited possibilities for the young to transform themselves and society into those Arcadian dreams concieved in childhood that the writers did not want to leave behind them.

“Victorian Fairy Tales: The Revolt of the Fairies and Elves,” Jack Zipes, 1987, p. xxvii

I grew up in a time when the Vietnam war was a major feature of the news landscape, mankind had not yet set foot upon the moon, the Berlin Wall still divided the East and West, and my mother kept an extra box of powdered milk under the counter in case the Russians dropped the bomb. If I had been a bit older, free sex and drugs might also have made it onto the radar. It was also a time when concern for the ecology–the overall health of the planet–hit the public wave.

It was accepted among most of my young friends that we were never going to live to grow up, much less grow old. Some whacko politician was sure to push the big red button. If not, then some angry, outdated military leader, too myopic to see that the people on our/their side were pretty much like the people on their/our side, was sure to war hawk us into a planet sized cloud of ash.

But if that didn’t happen, there was still the ecology. If we didn’t blow the planet into smithereens, we still needed a decent place to live.

DDT would be created during this time, a miraculous answer answer to world wide issues with malaria and a host of other insect bourne diseases. It would also be a time when DDT would be banned from North America as its overuse poisoned wildlife and our entire food chain.

As a child, I had a wonderful home and place to live. More than much of the world at that time. But I don’t think I’ve ever really forgiven my parents for not doing more to make sure the world would continue to be a wonderful place for me to grow up in, for my children and my children’s children.

For me, the best fantasy contains a balance of both forces: the rememberance of a cherished, better world against an awareness of the way we have to live in time of here and now.

Best regards,
Alan

Need a quick rhyme? Here’s a resource just in time. [BroadUniverse]

The world of SF and fantasy across the puddle is alive and kicking in a way the marketing juggernaut doesn’t encourage in the world’s largest market–the US.

Take a trip and maybe discover some gems for street cred. [EmeraldCity]

Spider Robinson asks “Why are our imaginations retreating from science and space, and into fantasy?” in Forward, into the Past, reprinted in the Globe and Mail from his Hugo speech at Worldcon.

It’s a good question, one that I wish more people in the field were asking themselves. But I’m going to take a walk out into the air on this one and say that I find Spider’s analysis of the problem to be part of the problem.

Sales are down, magazines are languishing, our stars are aging and not being replaced. … Those few readers who haven’t defected to Tolkienesque fantasy cling only to Star Trek, Star Wars, and other Sci Fi franchises.

Other than the obvious snobbery about fantasy (there is probably as much radical, thoughtful fantasy being produced today as there is demanding SF), Mr. Robinson’s observations are true. I think we’ve all seen it.

I wish I could take exception to “our stars are aging and not being replaced” because there are more truly fine writers in our field than ever before. But I can’t. Because their works are so far out there, despite the high quality of their work, you can hardly find them once you’ve waded past the stacks of franchise door stops.

I have a sense of longing for the days of yore, when the lists of bestsellers included titles like “Dune” or “Stranger in a Strange Land.” A time when some of the best works and some of the best writers were also some of the most popular, where the top sellers were no stranger to visions of the future that shattered peoples perceptions of who they were and what their place was in the Universe, when some of the most popular titles were at or near the cutting edge of the field instead of mired in the steady muddle of mediocrity.

I am not ashamed of my home, science fiction. I am ashamed by the marketing driven attitude that excellence and popularity are qualities that exert a magnetic repulsion on each other. The business driven corrolary that we must always choose that which will be popular over that which is powerful resulting in an environment in which a work that is merely craftsmanlike is lauded as the next Dune, the next Lord of the Rings.

But Mr. Robinson appears to settle the blame for the ills of the field on the shoulders of the young:

Incredibly, young people no longer find the real future exciting. They no longer find science admirable. They no longer instinctively lust to go to space.

Given the outpouring of protest that should have accompanied Mr. Robinson’s assingment of responsibility but hasn’t, I must conclude that this attitude is representative of the field at large. Which can only result in a widening gulf between the fresh and the established and the field is, politely, f*cked.

Mr. Robinson’s definition of an optimistic future is that of the “space age.” If he wishes to observe that the young of today no longer equate “spage age” with “optimistic future,” I’m down with that. “Space age” ain’t what it used to be. It the days of backbehind, it was essential for the members of the free world to secure space against an ideological foe. Been there. Done that. Not too sure about the finer points of the results.

Young people of today have to worry about their own government filling space with spy satellites and missiles. We’ve consumed the resources of this planet with abandon, with no clear evidence that exploration of our planetary neighbors isn’t really exploitation, with the bulk of the proceeds destined for the pockets of multinational corporations to be used to secure captive populations of docile consumers.

A Mars landing these days isn’t just about the excitement of being the first person to set foot in red dust.

Yes, the future is frightening! Anyone with any sense must acknowledge the fearful potential outcomes. But the thoughtful critic must observe, in all good conscience, that these perils were largely created by Mr. Robinson’s generation. Who landed on the Moon? Yes, that was a victory to the baby boomer set. But who allowed the space program to fade into the sunset of its own glory?

The same generation.

My generation.

This next generation–the ones who have disappointed Mr. Robinsion so greatly, whose fear of technology has so concerned Mr Robinson–they are the ones who are comfortable with the coming world with its higher integration of technology in everyday life. Young people are at the core of the development of technology today, in ways that never could have happened 20 or 30 years ago. Netscape, IM, Napster are just a few of the technological innovations that are changing the way people exist in the world. All were started by people less than 35. They were radicals. Rebels. Trying to exercise their vision of a different future at the periphery of a environment clogged by staid baby boomers. The innovations of the last 20 years were not spawned by Spider’s nostalgic crew. They were created in spite of them.

No, forgive me, it’s the old coots who are afraid of a real future, who refuse to write about it or deal with it within the field. It’s the old guard–Mr. Robinson’s generation, my generation–who can mount the massive voting block necessary to send us back to a dark age where all technology is suspect merely because it is technology. The young don’t have the votes, the market pull to swing the pendulum any direction we baby boomers don’t want it to go.

If modern culture is reactive in the face of a technological future, it is the fault of the baby boomers.

I would prefer it if the field acknowledged its failures instead of blaming the next generation, who have been forced to submit to the tastes of a dominant marketing block with no recourse, and move on.

Best regards,
Alan

Just before the relatives arrived, I sat down with David Weber’s Honor Among Enemies, the 6th book in the Honor Harrington series. The prologue was kick-ass. With the kids asleep, I was looking forward to curling up under a blanket in my favorite chair for hours of vicarious danger and action.

Crisp dialog, top notch crafting of the prose with a sweet, dangerous situation calling for a daring–even impossible–rescue. Count me hooked.

It was difficult to put the book down and double-time it to the kitchen to put on the kettle for tea.

80 pages later, at the beginning of chapter 6, I was _still_ being told what a cool chick Honor Harrington was and we seemed no closer to actually seeing said deadly person in action.

I felt like I was being pandered to, that I was supposed to somehow feel special because Honor was. Sorry, that’s not why I read. I read for the brain kick that you get from the best books. I don’t look for a book to give me an ego boost.

I put the book away for a couple of days, even picked it up twice more, but couldn’t bring myself finish the rest of the chapter. I felt like I was being sold life insurance by a used car sales rep who distributes Amway in his spare time. (Your mileage might vary. Mr. Weber’s prose was clean, tight and eminently readable. Maybe the experience is different if you’ve been keeping company with Honor through the first five books.)

It wouldn’t bother me, except this is the third book I ran into that week that left me with approximately the same feeling. And I don’t like it. It’s bad story telling. Then I ran across the phenomena of Mary Sue. Long recognized in the fanfic field, Mary Sue might explain those characters who are too good to be true. [genreneep]

From MakingLight:

MARY SUE (n.):

1. A variety of story, first identified in the fan fiction community, but quickly recognized as occurring elsewhere, in which normal story values are grossly subordinated to inadequately transformed personal wish-fulfillment fantasies, often involving heroic or romantic interactions with the cast of characters of some popular entertainment.

2. A distinctive type of character appearing in these stories who represents an idealized version of the author.

3. A cluster of tendencies and characteristics commonly found in Mary Sue-type stories.

4. A body of literary theory, originally generated by the fanfic community, which has since spread to other fields (f.i., professional SF publishing) because it’s so darn useful. The act of committing Mary Sue-ism is sometimes referred to as “self-insertion.”

Also check out The Official Mary Sue Society Avatar Appreciation Site. If you’re worried that Mary Sueism might have invaded your work, take the litmus test.

“Wish fulfillment” is not always bad, however. It’s a staple of Japanse manga. When properly used, it produces work that is easy for a reader to relate to powerfully. Steve Gould says Jumper was written out of his own desire to never again waste time in an airport, but the taint of “self insertion” is totally absent.

Critical Theory & its Organs, Trent’s essay on why some genre fiction is missing heart and how to get the groove back. [LocusOnline]

SFWA offers warnings. While not all POD publishers are unscrupulous, many are. I have seen a growing number of people in the newsgroups I frequent trying to get out of contracts that offer them little or nothing. I have heard horror stories about authors who initally published via POD, then couldn’t break restrictive contracts once they started to get notice.

Julie Duffy offers a quick overview of what to expect. Scroll most of the way to the bottom.

Adam Barr offers his
first hand experience with iUniverse. The economics don’t look good, and the deals these days aren’t as good as they were when Adam started (as he notes).

Piers Anthony has a number of titles available in POD and e-formatsand maintains an extensive list of publishers including POD outlets.

The collective mind sez POD is useful to an established author for the purpose of keeping titles in print that would otherwise be unavailable to their audience. In this case, the $200 to $500 you make per year per title is better than nothing, which is what you would get otherwise. But for a author with a new book at the prime of its earning life, POD is probably not suitable unless your book is so strange and offbeat that none of the major (or minor) presses will touch it.

You hate the thought that CP is dead and gone? Want something current and relevent to write about? The Internet as we know it is dying, killed by monolithic corporations in “a huge effort to transform the Net from an arena where anyone can anonymously participate to a sign-in affair where tamperproof ‘digital certificates’ identify who you are.”

Freedom of expression as we know it might continue on in small, private networks known as “dark nets” similar to pirate radio stations. [futurismic]