Visions of Paradise #160

Contents Out of The Depths.............................................................................................page 3

Childhood Christmases ... The Box Black and White and Read All over: Comix...................................................page 5

Taral Wayne The Passing Scene...............................................................................................page 8

December 2010

Wondrous Stories ..............................................................................................page 11 Stone’s Fall ... Hugo nominated Novellas ... Prozine Nuggets

Halcyon Days .......................................................................................................page 15

Rich Dengrove ... Robert Kennedy ... Brad Foster Lloyd Penney ... John Purcell

On the Lighter Side............................................................................................page 19

Jokes by Robert Kennedy

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______________o00__(_)__00o____________ Robert Michael Sabella

E-mail bsabella@optonline.net http://adamosf.blogspot.com/

http://visionsofparadise.blogspot.com/ Available online at http://efanzines.com/

Copyright ©December, 2010 by Gradient Press

Available for the usual

Artwork

Taral Wayne … cover Brad Foster … page 4

Out of The Depths Childhood Christmases

We had a strange setup in my childhood home in Cliffside Park. It was on the second floor of a two-story house, and consisted of four rooms in a row (kitchen–dining room–living room–sun porch) with three bedrooms alongside those rooms. But we had 7 people living together in the late 1950s, when I was still single a pre-teenager. So my parents slept in one bedroom; my 2 younger brothers slept in the other; my grandfather slept in the third. My grandmother could not lay down in a bed for various health reasons, so she slept in a chair in the living room. That left me without a bedroom, so I slept in the sun porch. Which meant that I had to learn to fall asleep with the noise of several people watching television about 10 feet away. Is it any wonder that I am now able to fall asleep under any circumstances, no matter how noisy it is? Every Christmas, the only place where my parents could put a Christmas tree was in the sun porch, right beside my bed! So I recall awaking in the middle of the night nearly every year and seeing piles of toys in the dark right next to my bed. I was always a “good boy,” so I never got out of my bed, but I would lie there in the dark peering under the tree, trying to figure out (1) what the heck those toys were, and (2) were any of them actually for me? One year the gift I wanted most of all was a robot; in fact, it was called Robby the Robot, a replica of the robot in the movie Forbidden Planet. Lying in bed the night of Christmas Eve, I was almost positive that scary-looking thing peering at me in the dark was not some kind of hideous monster, but my robot! Needless to say, I could not sleep that night at all awaiting my chance to play with Robby the next morning. Christmas morning I was thrilled to see that it was indeed Robby the Robot under the tree. But my brother Stephen and my cousin Rita (who lived downstairs, and was more like a sister than a cousin) wanted to play with it too. Being the passive kid that I was, I let them have first chance at it. So what happened? The damned thing broke. No more talking; no more walking, before I even got to play with it once! Now nobody gets first dibs at my toys before I do, lol.

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The Box

In 1966 my family moved from Cliffside Park to Whippany, which was our migration from the city to the suburbs. My parents were having a house built there, in what was a cheap location at the time, since the great population explosion of Morris County was on the verge of happening. My father had no interest in my books and comic books though. I do not think he ever understood my obsession with them. So before we moved, he told me he would not pay for the moving men to take my reading material to the new house. I’m not sure what the problem was, since at that time all I had was 2 boxes of stuff. In any case, he was not a particularly flexible

person. Fortunately, the week before we moved we made a car trip to Whippany to see how the house was coming along. There were still workers putting the finishing touches on it, and since the house was not finished, none of the doors were kept locked overnight. I brought my 2 boxes on that trip, and put them in a room which seemed to be a safe location for them. But when we arrived the next week, I was horrified to find that one of the boxes was missing. I searched through the entire house, but there was no sign of it. I had no idea whether it had been stolen by one of the workers, or some neighbor had simply entered the unlocked house, but it was gone. For somebody whose life already revolved around my books, I was devastated. I blamed my father, of course, but he was not the least perturbed by it. After all, they were only books, nothing really important. After 40+ years, I no longer remember the complete contents of the box, but some of them remain fixed in my memory: 1. Ballantine Books had published Edgar Rice Burroughs’ Barsoom novels in 10 paperback

volumes, and I had bought them all. I had only read the first 3 so far–in fact I carried the third volume with me on moving day since I was still finishing it, but the other 9 were gone. I have since replaced the first two volumes;

2. Leonard Wibberly wrote two hilarious books The

Mouse That Roared and The Mouse on the Moon, both of which I loved. Both were gone. I have since replaced both books;

3. When I started reading comic books at the age of

9, my very favorite comic was not a super-hero comic, but Tales of the Unexpected, which featured weird science fiction stories written on a young adult level. I had quite a few of those comics, and I still recall some of the covers: an alien spy masquerading as a tv reporter from station SRAM (get it?); the New York football Giants playing a game when a group of real giants suddenly loom over the stadium. It was Twilight Zone-type stuff, but totally addicting to me as a youngster. I have never tried to replace them.

Black & White and Read All Over: Comix by Taral Wayne

1: The Dawning of Fur

Unlike the old question for which there is no answer – which came first, the chicken or the egg – furry comics definitely came before furry fandom. No one even knew that they were furry comics in the beginning. Cutey Bunny, Omaha the Cat Dancer, Neil the Horse and others were part of the independent comics scene. They had not been relegated to a ghetto yet, and enjoyed the same status (or lack of it) as the work of Matt Howarth, Peter Bagge or Terry Laban. Originally, there had been “undergrounds” – comics with now-household names like The Fabulous Freak Brothers, Wonder Warthog, Fritz the Cat, Zap and Dope Comics. They emerged from the counterculture movement in the ‘60s and were the product of small-scale printing becoming cheaper and more accessible to the public. By the ‘70s, though, the underground comics scene had become an old-boy fraternity. Millions bought copies of R. Crumb’s famous titles. Gilbert Shelton’s Freak Brothers had gone through dozens of printings. But lesser known work was slipping through the cracks, and had all but disappeared from the awareness of anyone but old hands. New talent wasn’t finding a publisher. Fortunately, there was a new beginning in the ‘80s. In part, it may have been due to publishers like Kitchen Sink reprinting many classics from the funny pages and comic books of the Golden Age. In many cases it was possible, for the first time since original publication, to read comics that fans had largely only heard about. You could collect E.C. Segar’s Popeye, V.T. Hamlin’s Alley Oop, Milton Caniff’s Steve Canyon, Roy Crane’s Wash Tubbs & Captain Easy, Krazy Kat by George Herriman, Pogo by Walt Kelly, Al Capp’s L’il Abner, Will Eisner’s The Spirit, and even Maggie & Jiggs, Mandrake the Magician, Little Nemo, Polly & Her Pals, and on and on and on. My list barely covers a few of the essentials. One of the earliest and humblest signs that creativity had returned to b&w comics were the so-called “minicomics.” They were usually drawn by some hopeless amateur who felt he had something to say, even if only in stick-figures. Eight, or even sixteen, pages would be drawn on a sheet of paper, xeroxed, folded and cut, then sold for a dime or quarter in the more “arty” comic shops. Most minicomics vanished into deserved obscurity, but the auteurs behind a few – such as Chester Brown, a.k.a. “Tortured Canoe” – eventually became darlings of the independent comics community. Though, if you ask me, his best work was in the beginning – when it was xeroxed and only cost twenty-five cents rather than hard-covered for twenty-five bucks. Of all furry comics, only Reed Waller’s Omaha the Cat Dancer has its roots as far back as the ‘70s undergrounds. Reed was a Minneapolis SF fan who, with Ken Fletcher, used to illustrate the local clubzine, Rune. Later, he and Ken founded the first funny-animal apa, Vootie. From Vootie, Omaha graduated from fandom to the Slightly-Bigger Time when individual short Omaha stories appeared in Bizarre Sex and Snarf. Steel Dragon Press published the first two solo issues of Omaha before it was picked up by Kitchen Sink, which reprinted numbers one and

two. The rest is history. While I only met Reed once, at a ConFurence, I followed his work with Omaha closely, even buying the LP and the bath towel… The first short stories were most to my liking. Later, he turned the writing over to his wife, Kate Worley, and the stories developed into straightforward soap operas. I found the relationships convoluted, unlikely and essentially not three-dimensional enough to be interesting. (Did nobody ever work? Collect antique bottles? Attend Scottish clan get-togethers? Sit and read a book?) I never watched the TV show Friends, either. But I had fallen in love with Reed’s art from the beginning and never fell out of love, so I bought the book until the bitter end. Nearly as old was Cutey Bunny, whose first issue was self-published by Joshua Quagmire in 1982. Quagmire was an odd bird. As you might guess, “JQ” wasn’t his real name, but he would never admit to another. (Only a few old hands know his genuine moniker, and I don’t intend to spill the beans.) The comic was densely drawn and lettered, somewhat reminiscent of a more angular Will Elder. His best issues were those that caught the flavour of old Bob Hope & Bing Crosby “road” films. It helped if you were heavily prepped with comics lore as well as trivia about WWII and black and white films. Cutey Bunny only ran a few issues, and became increasingly muddled, as I recall. After QT Quagmire seems to have become enamored of material I found much less readable. There are literally dozens of Nazi Ninja Elves and Uncle Joe Stalin stories that are one, two and three pages long. A number have been published here and there, but the fate of the rest is a mystery to me. There’s an interesting “what if” about Joshua Quagmire. He wrote a full-length Betty Boop comic in 1990 that was put out by First Publishing on the Boopster’s 60th anniversary. I happen to have a copy of the original drawings by Quagmire, and lament the decision to have them redrawn by Milton Knight and Leslie Cabarga. I suppose it was inevitable, as Quag’s style is quite distinctive and the finished product is far closer to the Fleischer Brothers’ model sheet. Idiosyncratic or not, though, Quagmire’s pages are far more dynamic and satisfying. Curiously, in a scene that has Betty dressed as a lion for a film, she is more of a furry than a girl in a costume. In the published version she is only a girl in a cheesy costume. Quag was not only an odd bird, but a difficult one who didn’t get along well with most people. I could tell stories, but, ever mindful of lawyers, I won’t. Nor do I want to heap dirt on the man since he did me a tremendous favour once. He turned down an assignment to illustrate an article for Ruralite magazine. Whether he found the subject dull or the money too stingy, I can’t say. But he introduced the editor to me, and it was the beginning of a rather lucrative arrangement for my part. I ended up doing around 70 assignments for Ruralite at increasing rates. As well, former editor Walt Wentz and I became friends and remain in touch, even though he is now long since retired. Quagmire also introduced me to the editor of the Cutey Bunny Fan Club newsletter. This turned out to be none other than E.T. Bryan, who had aspirations of doing his own comic. E.T. was an engineer for the Navy who was a dirty old man after my own heart, and I contributed a number of back covers to Gremlin Trouble when he began publishing.

But things didn’t seem to work out well for Quagmire, unfortunately. Details of his present activities are sketchy, but he does maintain a website well worth dropping in on. Another book of note that appeared on the eve of furry fandom was Neil the Horse. The book was done by Arn Saba, and must be pretty hard to find at this point. It ran for 15 issues between 1981 and ’88, almost all of them in the first five years. Saba’s interest lay in musical comedy – particularly Fred Astaire – and early animation. He drew in a graceful ‘20s style whose superb balance of black and white spaces would have done the early Disney credit. Jokes about musical comedy would likely be appropriate here. As I understand it, Saba underwent a gender reassignment in later years, and was deported from San Francisco back to Canada for “moral turpitude.” Ouch. Katherine Shannon Collins now lives in Vancouver. One of my favourite funny animal comics of all time has to be Nervous Rex. The book was created by William Van Horn, who had been a commercial animator and children’s book illustrator before he was published by Blackthorne. Nervous Rex survived ten issues and two years before vanishing without much trace. The featured character is a diminutive T. Rex who is henpecked by his much larger, and more voracious wife. Van Horn followed with two other books – unsuccessful, if they are to be judged by longevity. Tracker was to have been a four book mini-series, but only two issues were ever printed. Possible Man, a superhero parody, ran two issues also. A number of short stories featuring Ambrose the Frog and a series called Angst appeared in various issues of Critters. Unlike some artists I’ve named, Van Horn had been a commercial artist before entering the comic book field, and seems to have had no trouble finding professional work after leaving the independents. He went to work with Gladstone, then Disney, writing and drawing Donald Duck and Uncle Scrooge stories. It’s good to see that having done furry comics is not necessarily a one-way ticket to obscurity and a job greeting customers at Wal-Mart. Of all the earliest furry comics, Albedo is certainly the only one as well-known by fans as Omaha. It was self-published by artist & writer Steve Gallacci in a humble xeroxed edition in 1982, then appeared as “the real first issue” in 1983 under his Thoughts & Images imprint. Gallacci was ex-Air Force and a veteran gamer whose interests come through clearly in the comic’s storyline. As you most probably know, the lead character is Erma Felna of the Extraplanetary Defense Force, a professional modern officer in a futuristic space-faring future inhabited by anthropomorphic beings. (Humanity may be their mythical creators.) The book was almost the bible for a generation of furry comics that followed. According to Steve, sales were high enough to provide a slender living, just easing into five figure territory. Gradually, though, the hassle of self-publication led Gallacci to turn production over to Antarctic Press. At first there were problems with Steven’s beautifully air-brushed pages, and on one occasion a page was accidentally deleted. He adjusted to simpler black and white art, which certainly made life easier for everyone, including Steve, but made for a less impressive book. Even so, Steve’s schedule grew slower and more erratic. Sales were dwindling across the board for furry comics, and Albedo was no exception. There was an experiment with colour issues to see if sales would improve, but they didn’t. Along with other furry comics, Albedo was now solely a labour of love. Issues ceased for a while, then re-emerged under the Shanda Fantasy

Arts imprint for two issues, a few years ago, but now appears to be gone for good. Gallacci was one of the original members of Rowrbrazzle in 1984. He began a promising series that was to be a sequel to The Secret of NIMH. There were a small number of episodes after which the story was regrettably abandoned. Rowrbrazzle was also the home of the very first Beatrix story. Written by Steve, the artist was Cindy Murata, and it ran only six or eight pages, as I recall. This seems to be as good a place as any to mark the break-point from pioneer to modern furry comics. Beatrix began with one of the pioneers, but rightly continues in the next phase of furry comics. The one thing these early furry comics had was that they were not intended to be furry comics. Each was created for its own audience among the general readership of independent black and white comics. Albedo’s appeal was aimed toward SF gamers, mainly; Omaha toward readers who enjoy adult situations; Cutey Bunny toward the aficionados of old movies and superhero comics. In future, though, furry comics would come to more and more pander to the fandom – I fear greatly to their detriment.

The Passing Scene Dec 1 - Dec 5, 2010: I was so busy for several days that I did not do any writing, which is unusual for me in my retirement. So what have I been doing instead? Monday, while Jean was at Mark’s house helping him paint two rooms, I vacuumed, mowed leaves (mostly to run out the gas in the lawnmower), went to the Farmers’ Market, and edited Risha’s college essays. Tuesday we went to Shop-Rite in the morning, I made turkey soup in the crock pot, then we went to the YMCA in the afternoon and Harry Potter and the Ghostly Hallows (part 1) in the evening. I have been busy buying Christmas presents for various people (including myself ☺): • 6 books from Dover Press for my brother in the family Christmas Eve grab-bag: Wilkie

Collins’ The Moonstone, Sir Walter Scott’s Ivanoe, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s The White Company, Detection by Gaslight, All-Time Great Ghost Stories and All-Time Favorite Detective Stories;

• 2 Elizabeth George mystery novels featuring Inspector Lynley and two cds of Renaissance’s greatest hits Tales of 1001 Nights part 1 and Tales of 1001 Nights part 2 for Jean;

• Rafael Sabatini’s Captain Blood, a three-set of comedy videos by John Cleese, and Bruce Springsteen’s The Promise: The Darkness on the Edge of Town Story for me;

• For Andy I ordered Iron Man 2, cds by Korn and Disturbed, a stand-up comedy dvd by Lewis Black and Iron Man 2;

• Jean and I went to a “warehouse sale” at a nearby sporting goods warehouse where we bought Mark three games for his yard. Kate already bought him 2 other games, so he is set for outdoor activities when friends and/or family visit.

Dec 10-12: Recently I have been spending much of my time researching and writing. For the first 4 months of retirement, I wasted time that I should have used writing, so I am pleased that these activities have helped shake up my work habits a bit: • I decided to participate in November’s Write-a-Novel-Month. Halfway through

December I have completed 200 pages; • I am writing two entries for Salem Press’ Graphic Novels book; • I spent a week helping Fei Fei revise her latest grant proposal; • I have written lots of college recommendations for the students I left behind. Together these activities forced me to concentrate more on my writing, since they all had time constraints, and as a result I have gotten into a rhythm which was missing early in my retirement. Yesterday we spent the entire day at Mark & Kate’s house while Jean and Mark painted an upstairs bedroom, Kate baked cookies all day, and I sat on the computer with my laptop working. Afterwards, we all went to Ruby Tuesday’s for supper. These diner-level restaurant chains are not my favorites, but at least this one has a salad bar in addition to their fat-saturated food. ☺ Dec 13-17: Monday night I picked up Fei Fei at the airport around 8:00pm, then she stayed overnight before taking my car to Princeton Tuesday morning for two days of meetings. Silvio (her husband) arrived in Princeton Tuesday morning after having major problems with his flight connections from Michigan due to the outrageous storms in the midwest. He traveled from airport to airport before arriving at Princeton an hour before he was scheduled to give his talk. Wednesday evening they both returned to our house and stayed until Friday. They stopped at a local pizzeria Enzo’s for supper, and were amazed at how good the food was. I told them that pizzerias are perhaps the best restaurants in the entire state. They both spent much of Thursday working on one of their collaborate projects (they both work in Vision), as did I, but that evening we all went to a buffet with Mark & Kate, Andy, Alan & Denise, where we all sat and chatted for several hours. Friday morning I drove them both to the airport, where Fei Fei returned to Stanford and Silvio returned to Michigan. They are typical academics teaching at different schools 2,000 miles apart. Needless, to say, they both have elite airline status from all their mileage between going to workshops, giving talks, and spending alternating weekends at each other’s schools.

The Year in Review This was the year Jean and I retired from teaching. I started teaching high school in September, 1973 at Paul VI Regional H.S. In January, 1979, I switched to Parsippany Hills H.S. replacing my sister-in-law Doreen. After spending two years “on the road” between PHHS and PHS, I switched fulltime to Parsippany High School as department head in September, 1986. The 24 years I spent at PHS were the happiest years of my career. Not only did I enjoy my position as department head (later changed to “lead teacher”) where I got to work with and help many really wonderful teachers, but I also made other friends on the faculty, primarily several fellow lead teachers, a few science teachers, and others I befriended by advising them in my role as teachers’

organization vice-president. But the students were what really made those years so special. Not only were my classes wonderful (AP Calculus, Honors Algebra 2, AP Statistics and ESL Math), but also the time I spent in the Math Lab either tutoring students or advising them on their personal lives and futures, or just befriending them. I really became close to many students the past 15 years, most importantly Fei Fei, who is more of a daughter to both Jean and me. Although the school is going through some rough times recently, my students were still as wonderful as ever, and the sophomores became my last class to spend lots of time with me in the Math Lab. The students succeeded in totally flattering me one Friday in June, first by 60 of them wearing “Sabella tee shirts” all day, then by 90 of them having a surprise retirement party for me in the evening (complete with written, video and spoken tributes). That was easily the most flattering day of my teaching career, and a wonderful way for it to end. Jean and I went on two week-long vacations after retiring. In August we went to Outer Banks, where Andy, Mark & Kate, Peter & Susan spent 5 days with us in a huge condo. In October we camped at Myrtle Beach with Alan & Denise, and that was wonderful, with both the weather and the ocean being summer-like, but absolutely NO CROWDS! We definitely plan to spend more vacation time off-season in the future. Mark and Kate bought a really nice house on a big piece of land only 30 minutes away, which is half as far as they were previously, so that is nice. They have two cute kittens Kali and Rocky, who are not siblings but are so attached to each other. They stayed with us for a week when Mark & Kate went on a cruise, and while they co-existed with Tiger, she preferred they did not come to close to her.☺ Fei Fei has had a very stressful year, mostly due to all the work she is doing, between endless grant proposals, teaching, mentoring graduate students, and traveling seemingly every week either to a conference, workshop, or to give a talk. Obviously we did not get together as much as we did when she was in NJ, although we do hope to travel to California (perhaps in tandem with a trip to visit Ceil in Denver) in the not-too-distant future. I had lots of writing plans after retirement, but they went slowly until November when I decided to participate in “Write a Novel Month.” In the past 8 weeks I have written over 55,000 words (210 pages), completing the first draft of a new novel. So far it seems to be pretty good. This year I have bought 20 books and got (or will get; some are still pending) 13 from Paperback Swap. That is a big drop from 2009 when I bought 18 but got 27 in trade. I really want to go back and re-read much of my collection though, so I am pleased to be buying less. I also bought 16 cd’s, a drop from last year’s 18 as well, but I am listening a lot online to Sirius and Pandora (which I really like, since that is my main source for progressive rock and folk-rock). This year I have read 33 books (so far; there are still 2 weeks before the end of the year) and 13 prozines. My favorite Book-of-the-Year was C.J. Cherryh’s Finity’s End (not a new book; it

was published in 1997) which reminded me of what a wonderful writer she is. Other favorites included Jack McDevitt’s Cauldron and Time Travelers Never Die (he is deservedly my current favorite writer), and Sir Walter Scott’s classic adventure novel Ivanhoe. My favorite albums of the past year were The Strawbs’ Dancing to the Devil’s Beat, Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers’ Mojo, The Firemen’s (Paul McCartney) Electric Argument, and Richard Thompson’s Dream Attic. But my top choice was Willie Nile’s Streets of New York. This is his second selection as Album-of-the-Year, the other being Places I’ve Never Seen in 1991.

Wondrous Stories

The last two historical mysteries that I read by Iain Pears were both my favorite books in the year they were published: An Instance of the Fingerpost (2002) and A Dream of Scipio (2003), with the latter also being my favorite historical fiction of the decade. So naturally that created huge expectation for his latest historical mystery, Stone’s Fall. Where the previous two were set hundreds of years ago, Pear’s latest novel is set in three relatively-recent eras. The novel’s first portion is set in London in 1909 and concerns the abrupt death of financial magnate Lord Ravenscliff who falls out of his second story window (his real name is John William Stone, hence the title pun). His will leaves most of his money to his young wife, but there are two strange bequests: one is to a mysterious woman living in France, and the other is to an unknown child. Lady Ravenscliff, somewhat confused over these bequests, hires crime reporter Matthew Braddock to investigate both bequests at a very large annual annuity for seven years. What then ensues is Braddock’s investigation of the will, which expands into investigating all of Lord Ravenscliff’s financial dealings, and his vast shipbuilding empire. There are wheels and wheels turning in the plot as Braddock and the reader learn much about early 20th century London’s financial institutions and also political dealings. Braddock eventually solves the mystery in a very satisfying way, if he does indulge in several leaps of deduction worthy of another detective of that milieu, Sherlock Holmes. One of the people he encounters in his investigations is a mysterious government agent named Henry Cort who apparently has enough power to intimidate nearly everybody he encounters. Braddock is forced to deal with him at this section’s climax, and ultimately Cort leaves his personal journal to Braddock after both Cort’s and Lady Ravenscliff’s deaths many decades later. Cort’s journal provides the next portion of the novel, involving his younger days in 1890 Paris during his first dealings with spying for the British government. Cort stumbles upon illegal financial dealings, specifically a plot to undermine the Bank of England. Cort proves to be nearly as deductive as Braddock was in the first section, and there are again wheels within wheels which provide a fascinating plot. The third portion of the novel is John Stone’s journal about his own younger days in Venice, including his dealings with both the builder of a prototype torpedo and the wife of a failed

architect. The characters in this section are the most interesting in the book, running the gamut from a seer to a wraithlike figure who claims to be the walking incarnation of Venice itself. More financial dealings here, although less stretching of believability and deduction on the part of the narrator. And Pears manages to bring the entire novel full circle by showing how events in Venice impacted events both in Paris in 1890 and in London in 1909. Stone’s Fall was a worthwhile book, mostly for its insight into the financial and banking structure in the late 19th century. If some of the novel was a bit too clever for its own good, the pace never lagged and the characters were all interesting people to read about. Its major failing was that it was unable to maintain the masterful level of the author’s previous novels.

Hugo nominated Novellas

After I downloaded the Hugo-nominated stories this summer, I read the novellas first. Unfortunately, I did not finish reading them until after the voting deadline passed, because reading them on my computer was inconvenient and I did not buy an e-reader until September. So, better late than never, here are my comments on three of the nominated novellas. The first one I read was by Nancy Kress since she is my favorite among the nominated authors. “Act One” was reminiscent of her brilliant “Beggars in Spain,” which was both a plus and a minus. A plus because this was also a strong, thought-provoking story with a well-developed point-of-view character. A minus because “Act One” had several noticeable flaws. The premise was that an illegal underground movement was gene-modifying children to be empathetic to the point of nearly reading people’s minds, hoping to eventually spread the ripples through the entire population. The tension arises when the group develops a faster way of infecting the entire population with an urge for nurturing. The main character is the agent for a fading movie star who is to play the lead in a movie about this movement, and who thus contacts members of the illegal Group to research her role. The story is typically well-written for Kress, and the plot develops well and interestingly. However, Kress tries a bit too hard to jack up the story’s importance by giving the protagonist an emotional sub-plot all his own. He is a dwarf who has been alienated by his wife and normal-sized son since the birth of the son. I was never convinced of the rationale behind the dwarf’s actions which alienated his wife, nor of the subsequent effect on the son. A more jarring flaw though was that the Group, whose main goal is to spread empathy and nurturing through the entire population, so tightly-controls their members that anybody who proves dissatisfactory to their needs is immediately and viciously killed. Kress needed to show more of the Group’s motivations for this seemingly contradictory behavior to be believable. “Act One” had enough strengths to be a worthy Hugo nominee, but too many questions to be the winner. Next I read Kage Baker’s “The Women of Nell Gwynne,” which is set in the currently-popular era of Victorian London. This setting—as well as similar settings around the world during the same era—have grown so popular in recent years that they have been given the name Steampunk, as if they are an actual movement, akin to Cyberpunk or New Space Opera. I have not really seen anything deserving of a movement though, since these stories share only a setting and some sfnal tropes rather than any philosophical basis. Still I have found most stories set in

this milieu to be generally interesting. As was this story of a house of prostitution which serves as spies for the government. Baker was a very strong storyteller whose plots were generally fast-paced and interesting, with characters easy to relate to. Nothing major—or, in this case, award-worthy—but recommended for light reading. Next I read John Scalzi’s “The God Engine.” This is the first Scalzi I have ever read, although I am familiar with his reputation for writing Heinlein-type fiction. This story did not remind me of Heinlein so much as a 1950s Ace Double or perhaps a story from the pages of Worlds of IF in the 1960s. The title is precisely the premise of the story: the universe contains numerous “gods” whose followers apparently warred many centuries ago until one god won out. Now he is the Lord who rules the galaxy while the other remaining gods are enslaved as some type of propulsion for starcraft. This premise is not particularly believable, nor is any attempt made to explain or justify it. The entire premise seems to be merely a convenient foundation for the story. Nor is the religion of the victorious Lord developed any more than a bunch of typical clichés: autocratic leaders who seem more concerned with power than faith, followers who automatically spout the “official” beliefs, and a main character who is naturally skeptical about it all. If a story based on religion is to be taken seriously, its beliefs and followers must display at least some philosophical depth or conflict. That does not exist at all in this story which, combined with the illogical background of the gods themselves, reduces this novella to little more than traditional pulp fiction. I do not mean to disparage Scalzi’s writing, since a pulp homage might have been his intent for the story. It is fast-paced adventure, enjoyable so long as I did not take any of it the least bit seriously or look for any depth beneath the surface plot. This type of story would have fit nicely besides the light adventures of writers such as Keith Laumer, Christopher Anvil and Mack Reynolds, all of whom were staples of the 1960s prozines. But their stories were never considered award-winners, nor should this one be on the Hugo ballot.

Prozine Nuggets

There are two reasons why I enjoy reading prozines, but they seem almost contradictory. The first reason is to read short fiction by my favorite writers. Not so much nowadays, but from the 1950s through the 1970s nearly all the major science fiction writers wrote short fiction regularly before the market for novels exploded. The second reason is to read fiction by journeyman writers, whose novels I would not necessarily buy (and who, in some cases, rarely wrote novels), but whose short fiction is generally a reliable good read. There were many such writers I recall fondly from my prozine-buying days: Vance Aandahl, Christopher Anvil, Lloyd Biggle, Reginold Bretnor, Sonya Dorman, Larry Eisenberg, Phyllis Eisenstein, Daniel F. Galouye, Charles Grant, Charles Harness, Zenna Henderson, Gary Jennings, Keith Laumer, Sterling Lanier, Bob Leman, C.C. MacApp, J.T. McIntosh, Kris Neville, Bill Pronzini, Kit Reed, Mack Reynolds, Hilbert Schenck, James H. Schmitz, Fred Saberhagen, Jack Sharkey, Richard Wilson, and Robert F. Young. In some ways, these writers were the backbone of the prozines, since they appeared in its pages more frequently than the “superstars”, who might have had one or two stories per issue. I would

imagine the situation has not changed much nowadays with different authors serving the “journeyman” role. I have been slowly working my way through the entire run of Galaxy, starting with volume 1, issue 1 (October, 1950), and I recently reached 1952 (when I say “slowly,” I mean “real slowly”). Recently I have read three issues from March through May, 1952. Each issue has a few stories by major sf writers, while the rest are either by ol’ reliables or relative unknowns. The March, 1952, issue has three SFWA Grandmasters in its pages: it concludes the serial The Demolished Man, by Alfred Bester, has lead novella “Year of the Jackpot,” by Robert A. Heinlein (one of his non-future history stories), and short story “Catch That Martian,” by a young, upcoming writer named Damon Knight. At that time, he was one of the lesser-known journeyman writers who wrote frequently for Galaxy. The other short stories were by relative unknowns H.B. Fyfe (who appeared in the magazine twice overall) and Jerry Sohl (who was in it three times). The April, 1952, issue had a novelet “Ticket To Anywhere,” by Knight, demonstrating his reliability to editor Gold; Knight appeared in Galaxy 15 times in the 1950s and 8 more times in the 1960s. The only story by a “superstar” was short story “The Moon is Green,” by Fritz Leiber. The lead novella was “Accidental Flight,” by F.L. Wallace, who is unknown to me, but who appeared in Galaxy 11 times in the 1950s. If the quality of “Accidental Flight” was typical for him, he was definitely one of the reliable journeymen writers for that generation. The other stories in that issue were by J.T. McIntosh (who appeared in the magazine 20 total times, although he billed himself as J.T. M’Intosh for his 1950s stories) and unknowns (at least to me) Lucius Daniel (2 total appearances) and Peter Phillips (4 appearances). The May, 1952, issue had no current superstar writers in its pages, although it did feature two future superstars who wrote the issue’s two novelets. First was Poul Anderson, who was 2 years away from reaching the top rank of writers with the publication of Brain Wave and The Broken Sword in 1954, but was still a journeyman in 1952. Second was Richard Matheson who appeared in its pages 5 times, but became better known for his fantasy (he appeared in F&SF 19 times) and his work on The Twilight Zone. The lead novella was “Category Phoenix,” by Boyd Ellanby, who only appeared in its pages twice and, if my research was accurate, only published two novels in his entire career, including the novelization of this story. It was good enough that I look forward to his other story. Too bad he was not prolific enough to earn the designation of reliable journeyman. The short stories were by Peter Phillips again, Charles V. DeVet (7 total appearances) and Franklin Abel (with his sole appearance). It is the breadth and depth of the prozines that make them appealing to me over time, and it is why spending time reading them (instead of exclusively reading books by favorite writers) is often a rewarding experience.

Halcyon Days

Rich Dengrove 2651 Arlington Drive #302 / Alexandria, VA 22306 November 5, 2010 I liked Visions of Paradise 157, but, as usual, I have a whole slew of comments Out of the Depths. I really liked Paolo Bacigalupi’s Wind-up Girl and would have voted for it if I had finished it in time. My suspicion is that his philosophy borrowed from Buddhism would be a turnoff if he had explained it at great length. Americans don’t like the idea that we can be raised up and cast down arbitrarily, and good can emerge from bad. However, he makes a bang- up plot out of it, with lots of suspense; and real people having to deal with real problems. Also, it allows us to see his partisan shell, which is green, from the inside and the outside. The Passing Scene. Too bad Spaceshipsofa won as best fanzine. However, I suspect that the audience for the new media means that no written fanzine will win anytime soon. On eLists, I have been arguing that there should be separate Hugos for Podcasts and written matter. Since Hugo committees hate to spend for extra rockets, I have suggested that some Hugos presupposing flourishing prozines be eliminated. For Novelettes, for instance. I am sure that isn’t going to go over well. But better that it be possible for written fanzines to be winners. Are We Not Men, by Taral Wayne. It sounds like the problem with Fuzzy Fandom is the problem with a lot of people these days. They look at themselves as the Imperial Me; and you have to know by osmosis or telepathy what they’re thinking. As Taral shows, it goes equally for Fuzzy costumers and their nemeses. Both groups should be avoided like the plague. That doesn’t mean I don’t sympathize at all with either. The reason they couldn’t get people’s agreement is that no one is going to agree to anything these days unless it’s their idea. And that would be true even if the Fuzzies and the anti-Fuzzies weren’t behaving outrageously. Even normal people have the Imperial Me bug these days. Wondrous Stories. I read a few chapters of a Cherryh and didn’t find it imaginative, or even skiffy. While the next chapter was more imaginative, those few had turned me off. However, it sounds like I wouldn’t have had either objection to Sunfall. I remember reading Robert Louis Stevenson’s Kidnapped. One of its heroes, Alan “Breck” Stewart, proved capable of derring-do. However, you’re right the novel is less about derring-do than people and people faced with politics. The Day the Earth Stood Still is a movie with eternal truths. However, it has to be set in 1950, and the paranoia then. Not in 2010 or 1901. Just as H.G. Wells War of the Worlds can only take place circa 1898. Not even Spielberg could replicate the depth and excitement of the original War of the Worlds set in 2005. The movie’s science and plot tended toward the jeribilt. At this point, it was based on a cliché anyway. On the Lighter Side. I’m sure that many of us wished Google Maps had an “Avoid Ghetto” routing option, but it’s not p.c. to say it. Robert Kennedy robertk@cipcug.org Nov 14, 2010

Thank you for #157 & #158. I am seriously considering ceasing to nominate and vote for the HUGO’s. Very few of the ones I nominate ever make the ballot and very few of the ones I vote for as #1 win. For Best Fanzine I nominated (among others) Challenger which did make the ballot and ALEXIAD which did not make the ballot. (By the way, who is Sue Major?) I voted for Challenger as #1 as I have done for several years. Obviously, it did not even come close to winning. As with you, I was incredibly disappointed that StarshipSofa won given that it is not a Fanzine. My 6th choice was No Award with no vote for StarshipSofa. The other big surprise was that Avatar did not win Best Dramatic Presentation, Long Form despite the fact that I did not vote for it. The winner was Moon which I had not seen. So, I rented the DVD. It was ok but I didn’t think it deserved a HUGO. You trip to Myrtle Beach was interesting. But, apparently you did not go to the excellent Ripley’s Aquarium and stores area that is only a short way from the ocean. If I remember correctly it is called Broadway-at-the-Beach. It’s a huge complex with lots of stores and places to eat. It even has a fine Señor Frogs restaurant that’s much better than the one in Nassau. Brad W Foster bwfoster@juno.com PO Box 165246, Irving, TX 75016 Nov 16, 2010 Thanks for the latest batch of VoP! Enjoyed Taral [Wayne]'s look back at "Vootie" in #155. I was only in that APA for a short while, and pretty much screwed up, as usual, by going with little robot characters rather than furry folk. But, like Reed Waller's Omaha comic first showing up there, my own short-lived "Mechthings" series also had it's start in the pages of "Vootie", though at the time it was called "Gizmos". When got an actual contract to do the comic book, there was already a series called "Gizmo" out there, so I had to come up with a quick title change at the last minute. I've never been totally happy with "Mechthings", but was the best I could do at the time. Of course, no need to worry about having to defend it, since, unlike the success of Waller's long-lived "Omaha" comic, I only was able to get 4 issues of "Mechthings" out. sigh. (If curious, here's a look at the covers: http://www.jabberwockygraphix.com/fostercomics.html ) I went to efanzines for a quick peak at #156, I knew that Alan White cover would be even cooler in color. ("Cooler in color", I like how that roles out.) Regarding your mention of the movie Forbidden Planet, I think it holds up the best of so many older sci-fi films. Affects are very well done, which is what usually kills the feel for older movies. Plus it was a good story and well-paced. I tremble whenever I hear rumors of a "re3make", as I can see them turning out something like the remake of The Day the Earth Stood Still. I wish instead of taking classic films and remaking, usually reducing them, film makers would take on anti-classics like, oh, say "The Creeping Terror", and see what they could do with that!

And glad to read you might have found a title or two in my on-line "read list" that caught your eye enough to add to your own list to look for. Lloyd Penney 1706-24 Eva Rd. /Etobicoke, ON / CANADA M9C 2B2 Nov 16, 2010

Thank you for a download of Visions of Paradise 158. I’m getting caught up with a lot of correspondence today, and VoP is up next!

The Stephen Whitty reviews are most refreshing. As someone who trained to be a journalist, I know that when you express your opinions in a newspaper, many people take them as their own. I have also found that there’s a number of journalists who skipped much of their education to go straight to writing. I’m pretty sure that whatever bad opinion the general public may have of science fiction fans, they have them because ignorant hacks wrote about them in a paper, or was assigned something they really didn’t want to cover, and made fun of people he didn’t understand. In spite of the demand for objectivity, there’s been too many subjective opinions of the whackos reading those stupid sci-fi books, and the cycle perpetuates itself. I’ve blasted a few local journalists for being unobjective, and I’ve never gotten a response back. (I must also agree with his remark…we do live in a proud-to-be-dumb society. Never has it been uncooler to be smart, or wise.) Restaurants…Yvonne used to work for Whirlpool, and she used to travel between Toronto and Benton Harbor, Michigan on assignments. She’d often bring food with her because she quickly got to hate Applebee’s, TGIF and Ruby Tuesday’s. When we travel now, she still brings food with her, mostly because of food allergies. Michael Coney was a Canadian writer, living on Vancouver Island on the west coast. I never met him, but I do have a number of Coney novels on the shelf. Always a good read. All of the world’s religions have something to do with how to treat your neighbours, how best to live your life, and to love one another. It’s some of the followers of those religions that cause the problems. Every religion has its zealots, and they are the ones who cause the most problems, kill the most people and grab the biggest headlines. The extremists have caused most of today’s problems, whether they are in the Middle East, Iraq, Afghanistan or Washington. I’m writing quickly…there’s much to do for this coming weekend. A new SF convention in town, SFContario, is happening, and the guests include Michael Swanwick and Geri Sullivan. Looks like it’s going to be great fun, so lots of preps. John Purcell Nov 21, 2010 I have to hand it to you: 158 issues and counting. It appears you are not tired of producing this fanzine, are you? Good. Keep it going because I like it. Say, that giant mutant tribble on the cover by José Sánchez was a nice way to start the issue off. It just makes me wonder what an eye check for that critter would be like. For that matter, imagine doing an eyeglass fitting on it. Would all four eyes need different lenses? Probably.

Betcha that beastie's vision insurance deductible and copay are sky-high. I like Stephen Whitty's comment about fiction in general: "in the end, there is no division between “literary” works and “genre” entertainment. There are only stories—well or badly told." Complete agreement with you, sir. I read a lot of books and stories that aren't science fiction – even though that's my favorite genre – and have always enjoyed a well-told story. For me, that is definitely the bottom line. Whitty's other comment about the education system in our country could send me off onto a massive tirade. In my college freshman English classes I see the products of our public schools, and it's not a pretty sight. We could blame everybody and everything for this situation, but I believe it is a cumulative effect; our school system has been producing lazy students because we have been coddling them, giving second chances, "teaching to the test," trying to satisfy everybody in and out of the classroom, administrators trying to make everybody happy, etcetera, ad infinitum. What I have noticed is that my students run headlong into shock treatment when they suddenly have to assume responsibility for their own work, for which high school did not prepare them. Fortunately, many recover from that initial headbanging and do just fine, but the withdrawal and drop numbers from my classes have been increasing the past couple years. Whatever happened to the good old days, a la John Dewey, when students were posed real-life problems and had to solve them? All in all, the American educational system reflects the general laziness and lack of focus of its society. This could be another tirade of mine, and I simply don't want to take off on this flight. Is it just me, or has anybody else noticed that Americans have stopped thinking? It seems this way, and that bothers me a great deal. Somehow we teachers have to start showing these kids how to examine a situation, do some research, analyze it, and come to their own conclusions. That's the mind-set I grew up with. Then again, I am a product of the Minnesota school system of the 1960s and 1970s, not early 21st century Texas. Frustrating, ain't it? Robert, your retirement certainly isn't slowing you down; if anything, you and your wife are still maintaining a frantic pace. It may not seem that way to you two, but it does to me. Good on ya, too! Enjoy life. I have never been to Myrtle Beach. Would like to, but have no idea when that's going to happen. I have been to Virginia – Richmond area, Luray Caverns, Virginia Beach – and a small section of North Carolina (Kill Devil's Hill, Nag's Head, the Roanoke Colony site), but that's about it for that part of the country. Some year I'd like to do more traveling. Maybe after I retire, and that is many years off. Until then, I shall vicariously travel around the world through you and other retired fans consumed by wanderlust. Not surprisingly, you have been doing a lot of reading, one of my favorite hobbies as well. I haven't read much by Kim Stanley Robinson; Red Mars was my first exposure to him, and now he's on my Keep Reading This Guy list. He is definitely good, and I still don't think he and I look anywhere near alike. It is too bad Lloyd Penney recalls an unfortunate exchange with Leslie David from many years ago. She's actually a very nice, fun person to be with. In fact, my trip to Virginia and North Carolina was all part of visiting her back in 1980. We had a good time together and still

correspond. That being said, as with anybody, there is a Dark Side, but we have to accept Yin and Yang, Id/Ego/Super-Ego together as components of a human being. How's that for mixing belief systems together?

On the Lighter Side Jokes by Robert Kennedy

Two 90-year-old women, Brenda and Betty, had been friends all of their lives. When it was clear that Brenda was dying, Betty visited her every day. One day Betty said, 'Brenda, we both loved playing softball all our lives, and we played all through high school. Please do me one favor: when you get to heaven, somehow you must let me know if there's women's softball there.' Brenda looked up at Betty from her deathbed and said, 'Betty, you've been my best friend for many years. If it's at all possible, I'll do this favor for you.' Shortly after that, Brenda passed on. A few nights later, Betty was awakened from a sound sleep by a blinding flash of white light and a voice calling out to her, 'Betty, Betty.' 'Who is it', asked Betty, sitting up suddenly. 'Who is it?' 'Betty -- it's me, Brenda.' 'You're not Brenda. Brenda just died.' 'I'm telling you, it's me, Brenda,' insisted the voice. 'Brenda! Where are you?' 'In heaven,' replied Brenda. 'I have some really good news and a little bad news.' 'Tell me the good news first,' said Betty. 'The good news,' Brenda said, 'is that there's women's softball in heaven. Better yet, all of our old buddies who died before me are here, too. Even better than that, we're all young again. Better still, it's always Springtime and it never rains or snows. And best of all, we can play softball all we want, and we never get tired.' 'That's fantastic,' said Betty. 'It's beyond my wildest dreams! So what's the bad news?' 'You're pitching Tuesday.'

* A six year old goes to the hospital with her grandmother to visit her Grandpa. When they get to the hospital, she runs ahead of her Grandma and bursts into her Grandpa's room...

"Grandpa, Grandpa," she says excitedly, "As soon as Grandma comes into the room, make a noise like a frog!" "What?" said her Grandpa. "Make a noise like a frog - because Grandma said that as soon as you croak, we're all going to Disney Land !!!"

* Sitting by the window of her convent, Sister Barbara opened a letter from home one evening. Inside the letter was a $100 bill her parents had sent. Sister Barbara smiled at the gesture. As she read the letter by the window, she noticed a shabbily dressed stranger leaning against the lamppost below. Quickly, she wrote, "Don't despair. Sister Barbara," on a piece of paper, wrapped the $100 bill in it, got the man's attention and tossed it out the window to him. The stranger picked it up, and with a puzzled expression and a tip of his hat, went off down the street. The next day, Sister Barbara was told that a man was at her door, insisting on seeing her. She went down, and found the stranger waiting. Without a word, he handed her a huge wad of $100 bills. "What's this?" she asked. "That's the $8,000 you have coming Sister," he replied. "Don't Despair paid 80-to-1."

* A man returned to work after a visit to the doctor; a colleague asked him about his exam. "I am OK; but the doctor told me that I have math dyslexia." His colleague said, "Gee, that sounds bad." "Actually, the doctor told me not to worry, because 17 out of 5 people have it."