The Future is that which is not yet written. If you hold to the view of time lines wherein each event becomes one of Hawkings' event horizons, there must be multiple futures. Event horizons also imply that a particular time line can be altered, if one knows exactly where to alter it and by how much [the plot in Asimov's The End of Eternity, highly recommended]. So, Beloved Editor and Esteemed Readers [that's you lot], let's talk about The Future and about how we can have an effect on our own time line. Because we who write science fiction are inextricably attached to one form of future or another. Even those of us who write fantasy deal on occasion with portals and time transfers and other chronometric bric-a-brac. Even horror has its place in time--catch some reruns of the excellent television series Friday the 13th.
The Future is that which is not yet written...and that which we write about. But to whom and for whom shall we write about it?
Not long ago, in one of those months when it is safe to eat shellfish, Andy Miller cobbled together for Cathy Buburuz's Expressions Newsletter a brief essay regarding the meager payment writers and illustrators receive for their efforts. In this essay, he touched on the subject of young readers [arbitrarily, between the ages of eight and fifteen]. There seem to be fewer of them. And there seems to be little in the genres for them to read. Possibly the two faults go hand in hand.
Most science fiction today--in this country--involves little of substance and much of glitter--of special effects. Science fiction is become a phenomenon more visual than literary. Never mind that the entire Star Wars sequence is nothing more than Gunfight at the OK Corral with droids and Gungans added [someone has already pointed this out. Ellison? I think so...], it passes for science fiction entertainment. So does Star Trek and the incredible and unsupportable shash it makes of the social sciences. The current television series Andromeda started off with some redeeming qualities, but quickly succumbed to the Roddenberry storyline bacterium which makes it necessary to treat each episode as an Aesop's Fable, the denouement complete with moral, based on Roddenberry's pre-packaged, pre-fabricated, and unfounded vision of the future.. There are, of course, a few excellent pieces of speculative entertainment on television. Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy, for one. The deliciously irreverent Red Dwarf, for another. And an utterly marvelous three-hour made-for-tv movie called Neverwhere, written by Neil Gaiman. But these shows are all on the Beeb, folks. Us Merkins cain't hardly find such stuff in this here country.
Don't misunderstand. I enjoy Stars Wars & Trek. There's nothing quite like a good vege, now and then, with a Tinseltown guide. Moreover, both series contribute to professional improvement. In the former, some of the plotting is intricate enough to be instructive. In the latter, the flaws in the storylines are so glaring that they are instructive in another way--I try not to make the same mistakes as a writer.
But it is all so visual. What's out there for the kids to read?
Well, first, there's Harry Potter. I'm not going to review either the movie or the books here; I'm saving that for another venue. But I will say that the movie was superb and marvelous and all those other adjectives you need a thesaurus for. Equally superb is what I have read so far of the first book in the series. True, Harry Potter is fantasy, not science fiction...but the three basic genres are f/sf/h. So, in the genres, what else is there for young readers?
Tick
Tock
Tick
Well, there's the novelization of Star Wars: Episode I: The Phantom Menace, by Terry Brooks. It's not one of Brooks' best works--for example, he misuses the word "comprise" at least twice, and his plot sequence seems uncertain at times--but at $26 a pop, he and the publisher can enjoy a filet mignon now and then. The novel was informative. I did learn, reading it, that Annakin explicitly vowed to marry Padme, an assertion that seems to have been omitted in the movie. [And nobody seems to have caught that the word "padme" is part of a common Buddhist mantra--om mani padme--and means, I think, "jewel']. Most importantly, the novel was written at adolescent level--say, twelve to fifteen years. So let's count it. Anything else?
Tock
Tick
Tock
In fairness I must mention a series of books called, I believe, Goosebumps. I have not read them. I have glanced through a couple volumes. They seem to be quite well done. They are introductory horror stories...rather like horror with training wheels.
Tick
Tock
Not much else.
It didn't used to be that way. The writers we now regard as (((((The Masters))))) [Vance, Kornbluth, Pohl, Asimov, Anderson, Heinlein, Moore, Kuttner, Merril, Clarke, Van Vogt, Williamson, Smith, Weinbaum,...] absorbed pulp stories intravenously as children and adolescents during the Interbellum, often much to the chagrin of their parents. They read it...and then they wrote it.
And some of it they wrote for young readers. Asimov's Lucky Starr series and some of his robot stories come immediately to mind, as do several novels by Heinlein--and I confess the copies of these in the San Diego City Library, if they are still there after mutterty-mutter years, probably still have my fingerprints and Milky Way smears all over them--including The Star Beast, Rocket Ship Galileo, and Starman Jones. One thing led to another. I, and perhaps you? moved on to Stranger in a Strange Land, Starship Troopers, The Gods Themselves, anything by Harlan Ellison, Charles Sheffield, Jack Chalker, Ursula K. LeGuin....more names. But my journey started with books for young readers. Perhaps yours did, too.
Andy Miller's essay was spot-on. Who writes for the young readers of today? And if something was written, would it be read?
The fundamental contemporary problem with books is that they contain little glitter. One has to read words, and comprehend words, and envision the images conjured by combinations of words. Reading is an active, aggressive entertainment. Books have no remote control modules...although I suppose a bookmark is the equivalent of a pause button. Books demand that the reader think.
You don't get that demand with television, which requires nothing more of you than that you sit on the sofa like a yogurt and absorb all the advertising slogans your personal CD can record and then go out and buy a new hamster-polishing kit. What passes for substance in current television is about as real as Britney Spears'...well, it's not real, okay? But it is easy to watch. And it's easy, if you are a parent, to let the TV set become your instant day-care center.
Expanding the readership to include young readers is going to require a multifaceted solution. Most of those facets are beyond the control of those of us who write and/or illustrate. Parental involvement in their children's acquisition of reading skills, family read-alongs, and simply turning off the television set are three adoptable measures that we as artists can recommend but not enforce, except in our own domains. But we can take a few moments of our creative time now and then to compose something for the young enthusiasts of fantasy, science fiction, and horror.
It's not enough to compose pieces for the young. There has to be a market for the compositions, and right now there are very few. David Kopaska-Merkel of Dreams & Nightmares is associated with one such market. In this past year Cathy Buburuz has found room in her Expressions Newsletters for a couple of compositions by young writers. And now Aoife's Kiss, a magazine about to be unveiled at this very site, will include a special department called "Kisses for Kids." It will present genre short stories, poetry, and art that is composed by young readers or by adults for young readers.
Although the concept of "Kisses for Kids" antedates the Andy Miller essay, I am grateful to him for pointing out the paucity of markets for young readers. I had not realized there was so little. After reading the essay, I decided to establish "Kisses for Kids" with the very first issue of Aoife's Kiss. One does, after all, what one can.
What are you going to do?
[Helpful Hint: the guidelines are located in http://promartian.com/aoife/KKguidelines.htm ]
I'd like to take a moment here to plug the print edition of Aoife's Kiss. You've already seen a couple ads here and there, especially in Cathy's Expressions Newsletters. The print edition is different from the online edition. The stories are different. The poems [with one exception] are different. The illustrations are different. To read the print edition, you must buy it. It's $6 an issue [in Canada, $7]. Four issues a year for $18 [in Canada, $20]. A two-year subscription runs $34 [in Canada, $36]. Here are some sneak previews:
from "THE FERTILITY CLINIC," by TERRIE RELF...
Sometimes they haunt their parents,
who can't shake their private nightmares.
There's something unnatural happening, when
the children come out to play.
from "THE PACT," by MEGAN POWELL...
...I'd willed it to work, willed him to come. For centuries pagans endured accusations of devil worship, and I'd gone ahead and done it, actually made a pact with the devil.
"Or you could view it as a simple conversion," he continues. "You were Presbyterian before you were Wiccan. Needs change over time."
"I don't want to talk about this." A simple request, in the right tone of voice, will often bring an end to his banter. Maybe he worries he'll push me too far, or maybe he really does respect me. Not as an equal, never as an equal, but as a valued member of the team. "I want to talk about him."
Him. I never say his name, not after that first night when I made my request. Him. Steve Anderson. The man who killed Jules. The man I want to kill...
from "FARR TIDES," by JOLENA RECTOR...
I stalk every slight lingering trace
all senses strain to capture one more elusive instant
I trace my finger along the cold jade tile
cold from winter's sigh, frozen without you
I press my hand to the window's glass
a mimic of you. But I am here... alone
from "LAINA BRIGHTSTAR," by SARAH GUIDRY...
"Who painted your face?"
"I did," she said, spinning in front of him.
He grabbed her chin, turning her face to the light.
"Where did you learn the dance?"
"From watching at the feasts," she said, softer now, unsure.
He took her roughly by the arm and led her to the yard, where he scrubbed her face with cold water from a bucket. She looked up at him, her cheeks and forehead pink where they had been red. Damp blonde hair streaked with running paint clung in tangles to her face and neck. Green eyes met his, puzzled.
"Laina, listen to me," he told his only child. "I don't want you dancing anymore..."
from "HEAT OF PASSION," by ERIN DONAHOE...
Desire fills me
and I feel in my mind
his arms, hot,
wrapping around me--
I think, perhaps,
if I make myself enchanting enough
he will even come inside me
giving me all the warmth he has to give.
from "BAY OF TRAITORS," by TYREE CAMPBELL...
...on the tight thatchwork floor lay two bodies attired as tourists. The one wearing Robert's did not move. Nicole, or what remained of her inside the brief flowery skirt and skimpy blue halter, shifted ever so slightly, and I quit my approach.
Wind jarred the door, and hissed through fronds. From Puka's mouth issued a series of high-pitched clicks and gasps. Robert, if Robert he was, began to shrink and turn blue, then aquamarine--though the colors might have been affected by the poor lighting. Flesh melted away from him. I expected wisps of smoke, whiffs of decomposition. Instead, his corpse contracted to a blob that resembled nothing so much as a large, beached jellyfish.
Puka clicked again, insistently. Then, for a moment, her English broke loose...or was released. "Kill it!"
Instead I aimed the pistol at her...
The debut issue of the print edition of AOIFE'S KISS also features---
* stories by David Shtogryn, Cathy Buburuz, and Chad Hensley
* poems by Bruce Boston, s. c. virtes, Keith Sikora, Cathy Buburuz, and Tyree Campbell
* art by Cathy Buburuz, Marge Simon, JAC, Dolphin, 7ARS, Ellie Hradsky, Charles Fallis, and Virgil Barfield
* standard essay features, including an introductory editorial and an interview with a noted figure in speculative fiction publishing
* new listings of Aoife's Kiss merchandise
All subscriptions received before 31 August 2002 will include the very first issue of Aoife's Kiss. It's available right now, as you read this. It costs less than five cents a day. That's not even the deposit on a pop bottle, folks. And look at what you get in return.
To order your subscription to Aoife's Kiss, simply send a check or money order to:
United States subscribers only---
Tyree Campbell, Editor
1708 Park Avenue SE
Cedar Rapids, Iowa, 52403-2211
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