Roger Elwood and Me (Part 1)

Phoenix rooster and hen by Anjwalker is licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0 / Resized from original

In the 1960s a character named Roger Elwood appeared on the SF scene. He had an uncanny ability to convince publishers, including several that until then had shown little interest in the genre, that they could make money publishing original anthologies. And during the next 20 years, Elwood became the dominant anthologist of his time. Then he moved into novels, persuading romance publisher Harlequin to publish a series of original paperback SF novels, all in the same basic format and with usually excellent covers by the late great Kelly Freas.

I don't remember how I first came to submit a story to Elwood; probably he called and asked me to contribute to some pre-sold anthology. But he liked my work, and during the seventies I sold him half-a-dozen stories, each time on request for an original, usually themed, anthology. Elwood paid advances at about the same rate as the better SF magazines, with the possibility of royalty payments if the books sold well (and I did get a few small royalty checks).

According to the reviews and fan critiques of the time, these anthologies varied greatly in quality. I always read all the stories in the ones in which I appeared, but no others; just didn't have the free time. I'm happy to say I thought all those I read were at least good, with some bordering on excellent.  For example:

My story "The Birdlover" appeared in SHOWCASE in 1973. The collection also featured stories by Robert Silverberg, Barry Malzberg, Joe Haldeman, Carol Emshwiller, Gene Wolfe, Joanna Russ, Ray Lafferty and Ben Bova, among others. Elwood had accepted "The Birdlover" with considerable trepidation. But he had asked for it, and so published it without attempting any sort of censorship.  (The story contains no strong language or explicit sex; the controversy stemmed from the basic theme, dominance of a hapless human by an intelligent avian species using sex as a control mechanism.) "The Birdlover" became my most noticed, talked-about (perhaps 'notorious' would serve here) story to that time.

Not that long after SHOWCASE saw print, I was a guest at a Con in Tennessee. At the first dinner Andy Offutt, serving as MC, introduced the 'notables' present. When he got to me Andy said, "And here's my . . . my friend from Florida, Joe Green!"  But I had noticed the hesitation, so as soon as I could I cornered Andy and asked him what he had omitted. Andy replied, "I was going to say, 'And here's my chicken-fuckin' friend from Florida!' But I lost my nerve at the last minute and couldn't say it."

Another of my stories featuring human/alien sex, "Encounter With A Carnivore", appeared in EPOCH in 1975, a massive anthology Elwood co-edited with Robert Silverberg.  I learned later in conversation with Bob Silverberg that he, not Elwood, had selected my story; had, in fact, chosen most if not all the contents. This one included stories by, among others, Lafferty, Malzberg, Wilhelm, R.R. Martin, LeGuin, Pohl, Niven, Aldiss, Simak, Benford and Russ, as well as a short novel by Vance. In my not too humble opinion, EPOCH remains one of the best original anthologies ever published.

The 'Elwood Period' also saw the demise of some fine original series, Silverberg's NEW DIMENSIONS and Damon Knight's ORBIT among them. Some fans and critics laid much of the blame on Elwood, for overselling the market and causing losses on his and other anthologies at many publishing houses.

Elwood also had some personality quirks and apparently sincere beliefs, including devout Christianity, that he let creep into his work. While I never had any problems with attempted censorship, other writers did, and reported same. When the serious attacks on Elwood began, accusing him of being a prude, a censor, a religious bigot, etc., he defended himself thusly: "Whaddaya mean I'm a prude and a bigot! I published Joe Green's 'The Birdlover!'"

(to be continued...)

Why It's Hard To Write SF Today

In late 2013 IBM published an article featuring some interesting forecasts on learning in the future, and other speculations.

If one or all of these come true, they will strongly affect each of us individually, and society as a whole. IBM also says the communications technology gap between developed and undeveloped countries will narrow, with many benefits and some drawbacks for western societies. The fact that cell phones and smart phones are becoming ubiquitous in countries normally thought of as still 'developing' serves as a prime example.

These highly likely upcoming changes make writing realistic and believable science fiction, particularly in the short forms, very difficult. If you ignore all these highly probable changes in stories set in the near future, you are being unfaithful to a basic premise of SF. If you pick winners and losers, and write your story incorporating the results of these choices, half your wordage will be needed to explain the changes and make them seem believable. The result may be good SF, but likely a dull story. And ten years later you'll learn you were wrong anyway.

Starting in the 1930's with Doc Smith, Robert Heinlein, Edmond Hamilton and others, far-future GIGANTIC! science fiction gained popularity. These writers, and those that followed them right up to the present, think nothing of expanding the Roman Empire to galactic dimensions, smashing stars if the local denizens irritate you, or traveling backward in time to see the "big bang" for yourself if your first-choice vacation plans for this year don't work out. These far-flung vistas captured and enthralled teen-age minds everywhere (including mine) for over half a century. And SF was the only place to find them.
Today I turn on my TV and go to the "Science Channel". It features several fine programs, but a favorite is "Through The Wormhole" with Morgan Freeman. In a resonant baritone this excellent speaker (and equally fine actor) conducts you through realms of speculation that would make John W. Campbell reach for the aspirin box, and A.E. van Vogt sit up and say "Why didn't I think of that!" With clear explanations and helpful graphics, this program unabashedly tackles such subjects as alternate dimensions, dark energy and dark matter, the birth and coming death of the whole damn universe, as well as more mundane and immediate subjects such the robots taking over tomorrow  (to discover as usual that they don't really need us any more), and the consequences of everyone living to a healthy 200 (I'm for that!).

I've been writing and selling SF for over half a century now (and am still writing and selling). I had already lost interest in writing the 'Big SF' story before weekly TV exceeded my most far-out speculations, while calling it 'science' and not fiction. And the future is rushing toward us so fast that speculation may become reality between acceptance and printing, and readers think the story shoulda' appeared in "Popular Mechanics" instead of "Analog" or "Asimov's".

Many former primarily SF writers have turned to writing fantasy. Think I'll go there myself (in fact, under one of my pseudonyms, I already have).

Sir Arthur At The Kennedy Space Center

Arthur C. Clarke (who died Sir Arthur, after receiving a well-deserved knighthood) was a casual but long-term friend. He often had dinner at the Greenhouse when visiting the Kennedy Space Center. (He also attended the Apollo 11 prelaunch party at the Greenhouse, a tale told elsewhere.) A large briefing room at the KSC Visitors Center had been named "Room 2001" in his honor, and the NASA branch stationed there dubbed their conference room "2010". Just before I retired I persuaded the manager of the Astronauts Memorial Foundation, also at the Visitors Center, to name their major presentation area "Room 2061", to complete the trilogy. (I don't know if he followed through.)

Working behind the scenes, I usually managed to get myself assigned as Clarke's official escort. The last time he came (August 1994) before I retired in 1996, he had some difficulty walking, and needed a wheelchair for long distances. He managed the short walks in and out of buildings by holding on to my shoulder.

Clarke was at KSC this time primarily to attend a press conference, in his capacity as a member of the Diane Fossey Gorilla Fund Board of Trustees. The NASA connection with Fossey was the Space Radar Laboratory-1, which had flown in the cargo bay of a Shuttle Orbiter the previous April, obtainiing some excellent multi-use data on gorilla habitats. But as with most distinguished guests, his itinerary included visits to several sites of major interest.

Over the course of most of a day, while being driven from site to site (KSC is very big, and spread out), we had several chances to chat. The subject of the then-extant SF mags came up. Clarke told me he faithfully subscribed to ALL of them -- but they just went directly on to his library shelves. He didn't actually read them; couldn't find the time.

The press conference came at the end of the day, when Clarke was visibly tiring. The local press turned out in force, probably 30 or more; an unusually high number for anything less than a launch. I escorted Clarke to the table on the dais, which he shared with some other people associated with the Gorilla Fund, and took a seat in front.

The press conference itself was fairly routine, except that the press concentrated their attention on Clarke and almost ignored the others. He perked up a little while sitting and answering questions. At the end of the standard 30-minute conference I stood up and announced that we would take two more questions, and then had to go.

The two questions came, the conference officially ended -- and then half or more of the reporters present hurriedly dug into their rucksacks or tote bags, pulled out copies of Arthur C. Clarke books, and rushed the table for autographs!

Press people, by and large, are a skeptical lot. This uncoordinated, spontaneous rush to get their books autographed while they had the chance warmed the intake valves of this cynical old heart. Clarke, although a little startled, seemed happy to comply. So I sat back down, and for another ten or twelve minutes, Clarke autographed books. Then, finally, I could get him out of the building and into our waiting limousine.

I had already escorted Arthur to see several people and places, including a meeting with the highest local dignitaries in the KSC Center Director's office. But it was that demonstration of genuine, unforced admiration on the part of the press corps that I most like to remember.

Reaching for the Stars

Image credit: NASA/JPL-Caltech

Earlier this year the local paper, "Florida TODAY" -- highly space-oriented, since its territory includes the Cape Canaveral Air Force Station and NASA's Kennedy Space Center -- carried a front page story that brought back vivid memories. The article said that space scientists, working from accumulated and analyzed data, had finally agreed that the Voyager I spacecraft entered interstellar space on August 25, 2012. Up until then the exact time had been a matter of dispute. The spacecraft is still operating, and expected to have enough power to keep sending back reports from at least one sensor until about 2025.

In 1977 I manned a console as a member of the Atlas/Centaur launch team. I also prepared the A/C technical documents, including the "NASA Fact Sheet(s)" distributed in advance of each launch. These were a compilation and distillation of the most important basic data on both spacecraft and launch vehicle. They were carefully written for the layman, explaining the mission in terms understandable to most high school juniors. These fact sheets became very popular with non-technical Kennedy Space Center personnel, the general public, and in particular the news media (the last for obvious reasons -- a lot of their work done for them).

Although I wasn't a member of their teams, the Delta and Titan/Centaur managers tasked me with preparing fact sheets for their missions as well. The larger and much more powerful Titan/Centaur had been chosen as the launch vehicle for the Voyagers because of the weight of the highly sophisticated (for their time) robot explorers, and the unusually high velocity required to reach Jupiter in only 18 months.

After a close-up exploration of Jupiter and several of its moons, Voyager I went on to Saturn for another flyby, then headed into interstellar space. The last was basically frosting on the cake, as was the famous photo Voyager I took on February 14, 1990, looking back at the Solar System (showing Earth as a "pale blue dot"). The two most important mission objectives had been successfully accomplished. Few expected this hardy explorer to still be functioning and reporting back when its escape velocity of 17 kilometers per second (in relation to the Sun) took it into interstellar space. But it's there, and with another decade (hopefully) of life expectancy.

The accomplishments of the Voyagers have been reported and widely discussed in the media. For me, they trigger reflection and thoughts on perspectives. Mine is that of a teenager reading science fiction in the 1940s, never dreaming that mankind would land on the Moon in my lifetime (by 2050, maybe?). And sending a robot into interstellar space was in the far, far future, something my great-grandchildren might try. And yet I not only lived to see both, I actually played a small role in these two great scientific adventures. Those of you growing up at a time when you rather expected to see men walking on the Moon, or robots reporting back from interstellar space, may have an entirely different perspective.

Sometimes the glamor and excitement of manned space flight overshadows the accomplishment of the Voyagers, Pioneers, and other doughty robotic explorers. But in many ways, unmanned spacecraft have contributed more to our knowledge of the solar system and galaxy than the manned programs. We've now had robot explorers do close-up, highly instrumented flybys of all eight planets, and one is on its way to the disenfranchised Pluto/Charon system. These accomplishments are worthy of more respect than they have received from the world at large. Just ask any astronomer or space scientist which has contributed the most to human knowledge.

We Are All Rich

The public has lately heard a lot about income inequality in this country (and it's about time!). Over the last 30-plus years, starting around the time of the Reagan administration (January 1981), the financial statistics tell us all the vastly increased wealth of the country has gone to the very rich, the top two per cent. Income for the middle-class and poor has stagnated, or gone down. This seems undeniably true, but nevertheless the middle-class has grown immeasurably richer over those same years, and even most of the poor are better off..

Let's start with the fact I'm composing this essay on a keyboard attached to a computer. (I could just dictate it, but my fingers don't jump into as many sidelights as my brain and tongue.) When finished it will be posted on the Internet, on my personal blog, available to pretty much the whole modern world. In 1980 the Internet was In its infancy, and few predicted it would grow into the largest organization ever known. Today the 'Net, and the millions of jobs/income and associated industries it supports, enriches the lives of billions of people. I think it safe to say few developments in human history have so quickly changed the world, and how we live in it. This was made possible by mass production advances that brought prices down to where all but the poorest can afford computers and 'Net access.

Second, let's look at mass entertainment. Today I pay eight dollars a month for Netflix, which provides me with more good movies (though separating good from schlocky can take time) than I have leisure to watch. That's on top of the 400 channels (many of which also offer movies) provided for a much larger fee by my cable company. These include everything from tedious reality shows to excellent TV series to informative and educational science and nature programs. All this on a 60-inch high definition screen that probably equals the movie theater experience of my misspent youth. And I can watch the daily news of the world while eating dinner and having my evening cocktail in the comfort of an easy chair.

With the ongoing implementation of Obama Care, the great majority of U.S. citizens will soon have medical insurance, and the high-quality care it provides. Modern medicine has progressed by leaps and bounds since 1980 (not that some sharp demarcation occurred then; this is a continuing process). The new or greatly improved machines available now are too numerous and complicated to spell out. If you see a doctor very often, you know of them. As a a result of both increased knowledge and better care, most people now live longer, healthier lives. And that gives us more time to relax (or retire) and enjoy the 'Net and movies.

On-line formal education is now a reality. You can earn a college diploma from your room at home. Robots are replacing humans in many dull, repetitive tasks -- think auto assembly lines -- while humans perform the far more interesting and lucrative jobs of preparing the distant study class materials and designing and building the assembly robots. And cellphones. Ah, our second brains! Who wants to live without them? Some of these improvements are in their infancy and have a way to go, but they got an impressive start over the last thirty years.

Add up how much the lives of almost all of us have changed. Look back on the ancient days of pre-1980, and compare our lives then and now. We in the middle-class have better health, longer lives, more decent entertainment, and increased leisure and retirement time in which to enjoy them. I think these developments make us all much richer, even if our dollar income hasn't gone up enough to notice.

And now let's adjust that pay inequality anyway, and pay down the national debt that burdens rich, middle-class and poor alike.


Photo credit:  Patrice Green & NASA TV (NASA Ames Studies Aerodynamics of 2014 FIFA World Cup Soccer Ball)