ENTRY #33
0905.13


I have never been one that has been bothered by spoilers. A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away, I knew about "Luke, I am your father" at least 24 hours before The Empire Strikes Back opened. It was a review that aired on NPR's All Things Considered. I remember hearing the following day that there was much wailing, gnashing of teeth, and calls of complaint to NPR over this little revelation. So much, in fact, that the review was quickly edited before the west coast feed was sent.

I'm also remembering an old Peanuts strip where Linus was watching Citizen Kane on TV. Lucy walks by and blurts out that "Rosebud" was the sled, leaving Linus screaming in frustration in the final panel.

In both instances, I could never understand why people would get so worked up over something like the revelation of a plot point, whether major or minor. In the case of The Empire Strikes Back, knowing that Darth Vader would acknowledge his paternity to Luke before the movie started did not lessen my enjoyment of the movie in the slightest. (What it did was make me just a little curious as to when said acknowledgment would transpire.)

Things have been a little interesting since I received the ARC of Tap & Gown that I won. I haven't read the book cover-to-cover, but I have skimmed enough of it where I know all of the major and most of the minor plot points. Enough where I could hold a decent discussion of the book with any interested parties.

There is just one problem. While there may be plenty of interested parties, Tap & Gown won't be available to them for another couple of weeks. At the moment, I think the only person with whom I could discuss this would be Diana Peterfreund (aka dpeterfreund) herself. And I think she is more interested in whetting the appetites of her other readers.

Normally, I probably would have blurted out something by this point. But with secrecy being part and parcel of the Rose & Grave novels, there is something fun about being the position to say something like, "I could tell you, but then I would have to kill you." Which means I'm reduced to the level of an eight-year-old teasing people with, "I've got a secret! I know something you don't!"

I have slipped a few times. There was one discussion on the peterfreundfans LJ community that I settled, with the caveat "I can't tell you how I know this, but I know." I suppose most of the people who read that comment knew whence my knowledge came, and didn't press me for details.

On the one hand, I could get away with dropping this line from Tap & Gown:

"The Knight Poe was mollified. Hale? Not so much."

Trust me, it's from a very funny section of the book, and when you read it, you will be chuckling. I can probably also get away with this quote:

"A: Your mom called. I told her you were off being naughty. -- L"

And probably even this one:

"Also, I was getting cat hair on my skirt."

On the other hand, I don't think I could get away with mentioning plot twists like [REDACTED], or [REDACTED], and especially not [REDACTED]. I think too many people would be upset with me, not the least of which would be Diana herself.

Yesterday, I found myself making a comment on Diana's blog that would have given away just a little too much too soon. Rather than delete the comment, though, I did a little bit of judicious editing to eliminate anything that hadn't been revealed in the first three books.

I may have to resort to that tactic until the release date for Tap & Gown. It might actually be fun, but I will be glad once the veil of secrecy has been lifted.


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ENTRY #32
0904.07


It started a little over three weeks ago on Diana Peterfreund's (dpeterfreund) blog (March 15, if you want the precise date). She asked her readers a simple question: Who would like an ARC of the fourth and final (or should that be "fourth & final"?) book in her Rose & Grave tetralogy, Tap & Gown? (Obviously, anyone reading the entry was thinking, "Me! Me!")

It wasn't going to be that easy, though. Diana had just returned from a trip to Ireland, and was calling to mind a visit to one pub where the barman made her and her friends sing before they would be served. In a similar fashion, she was going to make her readers work for that ARC. What we had to do was write a limerick that had something to do with the Rose & Grave novels, and post it as a comment. The best limerick would win the ARC.

As I started thinking, the first two lines came rather quickly. As a matter of fact, they came from a teaser for Tap & Gown that appeared in the third book, Rites Of Spring (Break). In one part of the teaser, the narrator, Amy "Bugaboo" Haskel, is talking to her new boyfriend, Jamie "Poe" Orcutt, and she makes the observation that all of their friends are going to find it oh-so-cute that their real names rhyme. The first line came to mind immediately; the second within a minute:

There once was a Digger named Amy,
Who fell for the patriarch Jamie . . .

Okay, two down, three to go.

The idea of them becoming a couple triggered a few long-forgotten memories, although I didn't fully realize it until sometime later. It triggered memories of a story I read a long time ago in Asimov's. In fact, it was so long ago that it was when the magazine was Isaac Asimov's Science Fiction Magazine. I still can't recall the story's title, or who wrote it, but I'm fairly certain that it appeared during George Scithers's tenure as editor.

In the story, Earth had been at war with an alien race for who knows how long. In fact, at the end, we learn that the narrator is an AI controlling various defenses, and that the human race has been long dead. The same is true of the alien race, and the narrator destroys his counterpart from the alien race.

The two AIs taunt each other during the initial confrontation, and the Earth AI zings the alien AI with a rather insulting limerick -- a fart joke, as a matter of fact. When the alien AI replies that it was physiologically impossible for his race, the Earth AI says something along the lines of, "Cut me some slack; it's hard enough to get the meter right."

The Earth AI then begins to give his alien counterpart a brief lecture on the intricacies and nuances of the limerick, ending with a challenge. He will give the alien the first four lines of a limerick. If the alien can come up with a final line, he will surrender. Those first four lines went like this:

"An Earthman was seeking to couple
With a maiden so soft, sweet, and supple.
But he found in her pants
With his hands, just by chance . . . "

(This may be a slightly inaccurate quote, but it's as close as I can get without re-reading the story. And at the moment, I don't feel like going through 30+ years of Asimov's to find that one story. Incidentally, if anyone does know the story of which I speak, please leave a comment as to the title and author.)

Getting back to my own narrative, my (mostly subconscious) memories of that story, and especially that partial limerick, gave me lines three and four:

. . . On becoming a couple,
With their bodies so supple . . .

All I needed was that fifth and final line. This time, my muse thought it would be funny to bring Joss Whedon into play, as I recalled one of the memorable lines from Buffy The Vampire Slayer: "Love makes you do the wacky." A rhyme for "Amy" and "Jamie" came to mind, and I suddenly had that fifth line:

. . They did the wacky without shamie.

Keep in mind that all of these random bits of thinking took place within the span of about 10 to 15 minutes, and most of that was happening in my subconscious mind. Once I had the final line, I posted the finished limerick as a comment:

There once was a Digger named Amy,
Who fell for the patriarch Jamie,
On becoming a couple,
With their bodies so supple,
They did the wacky without shamie.

(When I posted the comment, I also mentioned that I thought it was pretty bad, but I couldn't think of anything better at just that moment.)

The week went by, and during that time, Diana occasionally mentioned the limerick contest in her blog entries. I couldn't think of anything better, so I didn't attempt another limerick.

The following Monday, as I checked Diana's blog, I saw that she had chosen the winners. And much to my surprise, I found myself reading my own limerick, followed by these comments by Diana:

"Purple Ranger's innovative coinage of 'shamie' (move over, Edgar Allan and Shakespeare!) as well as interesting (if not necessarily accurate) predictions for the future took an early lead with the panel. Jamie and Amy have *not* done the wacky, guys. Just some good, old-fashioned snogging. Says one judge: 'I just giggle every time I read "shamie."'"

Oh, wow. I was just a little surprised. I wasn't the only winner, though. There were a couple of others, including an honorable mention to one person who had submitted something like 29 different limericks.

Now that I think about it, though, I realize that the last line doesn't fit the meter as well as it should. I discovered that it scans better with just the slightest transposition of words:

There once was a Digger named Amy,
Who fell for the patriarch Jamie,
On becoming a couple,
With their bodies so supple,
The wacky they did without shamie.

Much better, don't you think?

And yesterday, I received my prize in the mail. Diana had autographed it, with the inscription, "To PurpleRanger, who already has a code name . . . " I hereby confess: That made my day.

So far, I've only skimmed the book, but I will say that it is a satisfying conclusion to the series. For more than that, you'll have to wait until Tap & Gown hits the bookstores in May.


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ENTRY #31
0812.23


Book Review
BOYS OF THE STEEL: THE CREATORS OF SUPERMAN
by Marc Tyler Nobleman
Illustrated by Ross MacDonald
(Alfred A. Knopf, 2008)


Everyone knows Superman's origin story.

It has been told and retold many times in the 70 years since Action Comics #1 first hit the newsstands. Writers have added things to the story, and other writers have taken out things, but the story has remained essentially the same: As the planet Krypton is being destroyed in a planetary cataclysm, a scientist sends his infant son to Earth in a rocketship, where he develops amazing powers in Earth's environment; powers that he uses for the good of his adopted planet as Superman, the Man Of Steel.

As I said, most of you, if not all of you, know that story. But how many of you know Superman's other origin story? The story of how two kids from Cleveland created what they described would be "the greatest superhero of all time." (And as it turns out, they were right.)

Marc Tyler Nobleman tells that story in Boys Of Steel. He is writing it for a young audience (probably first grade level), so he is telling the story of Jerry Siegel, Joe Shuster, and their creation in a very simple manner. But he is telling it in a way that should also hold the interest of parents (or other adults) who might be reading it to kids who are still learning to read.

Ross MacDonald's illustrations are an homage to Shuster. They capture the style of the art of Superman's early years perfectly, almost as if MacDonald had Shuster's spirit guiding his hand as he was drawing them. (I think my favorite illustration in the book is one of the last ones, where the cover of Action Comics #1 was lovingly recreated.)

The main story takes Siegel and Shuster from high school to their first success with Superman. A text-only afterword tells of what happened to them later, from the shameful treatment they received at the hands of DC Comics to how DC eventually provided them with pensions.

I know that various parts of the story have been told in other places, and it's quite likely that the entire story has been told more completely in one place. But Boys Of Steel tells it in a way that might capture the attention of my six-year-old niece, or even my nine-year-old nephew -- and just maybe give them a little more insight into how the man in the big red S made it to the page.


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ENTRY #30
0810.16


I always try to keep up with what happens at each year's WSFS Business Meeting, even if I am unable to attend that year's Worldcon. This year was no different, and thanks to the Internet, I could learn what happened just a few hours after each day's session concluded.

I suppose the big thing that happened this year was the initial passage of a Best Graphic Story category for the Hugo Awards. I suspected that sooner or later, someone was going to propose such a category. After Nolacon 2 came up with the rather creative "Best Other Forms" category in 1988 just to give the graphic novel Watchmen a Hugo, I suspect that it was inevitable.

Since Anticipation has elected to use its "Additional Category" prerogative to conduct a trial run of the proposed category next year, there is just one little thing that probably needs to be cleared up before the nominating ballots are sent out. If a storyline from an ongoing title is deemed worthy of being nominated for this new category, I assume that it will be treated the same way that a serialized work of fiction will be; that is, it will be eligible the year the final installment is published. But there is one other thing that the Hugo administrators for Anticipation need to consider, since this will probably set a precedent for future administrators should the category receive its second passage at the Anticipation Business Meeting.

In recent years, it has become common practice for a comic publisher to collect a storyline that was published over several issues into a single volume a few months after the concluding installment has been published. How will eligibility for the story be determined -- by the publication of the serialized version, or by the publication of the collected volume?

For example, let's take the case of DC Comics's Final Crisis, which is still being published. At the moment, I think the final issue will hit the comic stores, newsstands, et cetera, sometime in December. (This, of course, is subject to change, but for the sake of this argument, let's assume that the final issue will appear in 2008.) The collected volume of Final Crisis (and trust me, there will be one) will probably be published some time in the first part of 2009. When will it be eligible for Hugo consideration? For calendar year 2008, or for calendar year 2009?

Also, if a collected volume contains extras that weren't part of the serialized form, is that enough of a difference to consider it a separate work? As I said, I think the Hugo administrators should be thinking about this now, to reduce any possible confusion later.


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ENTRY #29
0809.25


I've been looking through Harlan Ellison's illustrated screenplay for I, Robot. Now, this is not the screenplay for the movie that came out a couple of years ago. You know, the one that claimed to be based on Isaac Asimov's collection of stories, but in reality, the only similarity was the title and the fact that they used Asimov's Laws Of Robotics?

No, this screenplay was actually based on Asimov's stories. Ellison took the stories in that collection, and wove them together into a breathtaking and imaginative tapestry of storytelling -- and while there may have been changes made in the translation from prose to script, the screenplay stayed true to the spirit of Asimov's stories. Unfortunately, this screenplay was never brought to life on the big screen. (At least not yet. We can always hope.)

The text on the back cover of the book proclaims that this screenplay is "the greatest science fiction movie never made." While I will concede that there might be just the slightest bit of hyperbole in that statement, if there is an unfilmed screenplay for an even greater SF movie, it has not been brought to my attention.

This isn't the first time that I've read Ellison's screenplay for I, Robot. I first read it many years ago, when Asimov's serialized it in 1987. I was probably mesmerized when I read it then, and just leafing through the book now, I think I still might be. Harlan Ellison is more than a good writer; he's a damn good writer -- although most of you reading this already know that.

In his introduction to the book, Ellison talks about what could be his only regret involving this screenplay; that will never be able to sit in a theatre with his good friend Isaac Asimov and watch the movie made from this screenplay. And he's right -- there are times when I really wish I could read a new story by Isaac Asimov, or open up a new issue of Asimov's and find one of his editorials in front. But however much I might wish that Dr. Asimov were still with us, reading this screenplay has made me realize something, and I suspect that Mr. Ellison might find himself in agreement with me on this point.

I'm glad Dr. Asimov wasn't alive to see the Will Smith version of I, Robot.


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ENTRY #28
0809.04


Jennifer Estep is running a contest on her website in connection with the release of her third Bigtime novel, Jinx. The narrator of the book has luck as a superpower, and the contest is related to Bella's sometimes capricious power. Estep asked her readers to tell her about their luckiest or unluckiest experience.

I don't know if this would be my luckiest experience ever. It is related to Jinx, though, so it's certainly appropriate to mention it.

One thing you should keep in mind before you go any further is that the official release date for Jinx was just two days ago, September 2.

Last Friday, I was in one of the local Borders stores. One of the first things you see as you enter this particular store is part of the bargain section. And as I entered the store, I noticed one book in particular in the bargain section. It was the hardcover edition of The Darwin Awards 4. For some reason, I had missed getting that book when it was originally published, and I was a little irked that the only edition I could find was the trade paperback. I had the first three books in the series in hardcover, and I wanted the fourth the same way.

Needless to say, I quickly grabbed a copy, and I looked through the rest of the store. Just before I went to the check-out counter, I decided to make a brief stop by the romance section. Much to my surprise and delight, I saw Jinx on the shelves, several days ahead of schedule. (This wasn't the first time I got this lucky. When Estep's second Bigtime book, Hot Mama, was reissued in mass market paperback last month, I found it on the shelves several days ahead of the release date, too.)

As I told Estep in an email a day or so later, I think some of Bella's luck was rubbing off on me.


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ENTRY #27
0804.13


[NOTE: This is being crossposted to worldcons, so there is a slim chance that some of you may be reading this in stereo.]

If I were to hazard a guess, I would suspect that this has been rolling around in my subconscious for some time now. I'm guessing that it was the recent Progress Reports from both Denvention and Anticipation that finally dragged it forth from the subconscious to the conscious.

It all has to do with WSFS's marks, and that obligatory notice that appears in all Worldcon publications, as mandated by Section 2.2 of the WSFS Constitution:

Marks. Every Worldcon and NASFIC committee shall include the following notice in each of its publications: "World Science Fiction Society," "WSFS," "World Science Fiction Convention," "Worldcon," "NASFIC," and "Hugo Award" are service marks of the World Science Fiction Society, an unincorporated literary society.

I realized something, and I'm a little surprised that it hasn't occurred to anyone else before this. Or at the very least, if it has occurred to someone before now, I'm surprised that no one has apparently mentioned it until now.

There should be one more mark on the list.

Section 1.2 refers to NASFIC as "the occasional North American Science Fiction Convention," and that is the only place the phrase is mentioned in the Constitution. My point is this: "World Science Fiction Convention" and "Worldcon" both refer to the same annual event. The former term is the formal name, while the latter is the commonly-used (and equally acceptable) short form. By the same token, shouldn't WSFS hold both "North American Science Fiction Convention" and "NASFIC" as service marks?

Yes, I know that there are some SMOFs who are violently opposed to the very existence of the concept of the NASFIC. At the moment, though, it is a valid service mark of WSFS. Still, until and unless WSFS decides to either abandon the mark altogether, or relinquish the mark to another organization, would it not be in the Society's best interests to add "North American Science Fiction Convention" to its list of service marks?

I'm posting this in this manner because I know that it will appear on the radar of at least one member of the Mark Protection Committee (Hi, Kevin!), and I figure that it is the quickest way to bring this to the attention of the entire MPC. And, I suppose, to ask if this is indeed something that should be added as an item to the agenda of Denvention's business meeting.


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ENTRY #26
0802.29


Magazine Review
SCIENCE ILLUSTRATED


I guess it was about two or three years ago that I lamented the fact that there hasn't been a good general interest science magazine on the stands since Omni folded many years ago. Before you say anything, yes, I am well aware of Discover. I see it quite regularly, and I even look through the occasional issue at the library if something on the cover catches my eye. But for some reason, Discover never really grabbed me, never really caught my attention the way that Omni did. It just doesn't have the right spark. For lack of a better term, it doesn't have that sense of wonder.

I expressed my lament while reviewing a short-lived magazine called Phenomena. While Phenomena did grab my attention, it unfortunately covered the sorts of flaky, fuzzy-minded New Age thinking that Omni usually reserved for its "Antimatter" column. (It also lasted only four issues.) But recently, I spotted a new magazine on the stands that might actually embody the same sense of wonder that I once found in the pages of Omni.

That magazine is Science Illustrated. According to the editorial in the premiere issue, this is the US edition of a Danish magazine which is largest-circulation magazine in Scandinavia. (I would like to see data to back up that claim, but I'm willing to accept it for now.)

In that debut editorial, Editor-In-Chief Mark Jannot describes Science Illustrated as "a visually spectacular gateway to the world of science and discovery" and "a feast of information for anyone with a passion for understanding the world and for understanding that understanding with others." I love enthusiasm like that. It's infectious. If the man at the top has this enthusiastic sense of wonder, I feel confident that it will trickle down to the rest of the magazine's staff as well (assuming that it isn't already there).

Three departments appear at the front of Science Illustrated in rapid succession. "Bull's-Eye" is a gallery of two-page spreads, each spread showcasing a different aspect of science, be it technology, medicine, nature, or culture. "Science Update" reminds me of Omni's "Continuum" department more than anything else. It's a collection of ultra-short articles that really don't require longer, separate pieces. The difference here is that "Science Update" is much more lavishly illustrated than "Continuum" ever was. And I think "Ask Us" should be self-explanatory. It's Mr. Wizard and Bill Nye The Science Guy in print form.

Three other departments appear at the back of Science Illustrated. I think I could maybe best describe "World Of Science" as the answers to all of those puzzling little questions that my nephew (who's just about to turn 9) and niece (age 5) would pose just out of curiosity. Included in this section are factoids on the different chemical elements. (They aren't going in order, and I was a little disappointed that the first issue covered oxygen, and not antimony.) And "Trivia Countdown" and "Brain Trainers" bring back fond memories of Omni's "Games" column.

The main articles are sandwiched between these sets of bookending departments. Simply, these articles every branch of science -- or they will, assuming that Science Illustrated stays on the stands long enough. Topics covered in the first two issue's articles include snake venom, penguins, building a bionic eye, the possibility of limb regeneration in humans, and tracking icebergs.

As I mentioned earlier, Science Illustrated is illustrated lavishly, befitting the magazine's title. That's the main difference between it and Omni. If you were a reader, you will remember that Omni was text-heavy. I'm not saying that one is better than the other; I'm just pointing out the differences.

(Yes, I realize that I'm making more than a few comparisons between Science Illustrated and Omni. That's the best standard for comparison I have at present. A decade from now, I could easily be comparing another new science magazine to both.)

Science Illustrated is published bi-monthly. Individual issues cost $4.95 on the newsstand, while a one-year subscription costs $24.

There is a website for the magazine, which can be found at http://www.scienceillustrated.com. Unfortunately, at present it is little more than a page describing Science Illustrated, and a page for subscribing. Maybe in the future, the website will include teasers for articles in the current issue, or maybe even an archive of past articles.

Now, if they could just consider the possibility of running a science fiction short story in each issue . . .


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ENTRY #25
0802.07


I first encountered reprints of Dial "H" For Hero . . . well, let's just say that it was many, many years ago, and leave it at that. I think I fell in love with the series concept at first glance. If you loved to play superheroes when you were growing up, Robby Reed had to be the embodiment of your ultimate fantasy. Instead of being just one superhero, Robby could become any superhero. Of course, there was that one little hitch in that he never knew what hero he might become every time he dialed the letters "H-E-R-O" on his H-Dial.

So as you can imagine, I let out just the tiniest bit of a fanboy squeal a few weeks ago, when I saw the latest issue of The Brave And The Bold (#9, to be precise). That issue featured a team-up between Dial "H" For Hero and the Metal Men.

It wasn't perfect. The story was only seven pages long (it was one of three in that issue). Barely an appetizer, when I was hoping for a full-course meal. (But better than nothing, I guess.) And the focus of the story was more on the Metal Man Tin, who had used the H-Dial after Robby had become injured after dialing "O-R-E-H" and returning to normal. But there were a few good moments. Like on the last page, when an intrigued Dr. Will Magnus credits the H-Dial as the sole source of the multitude of superheroes appearing in Robby's locale -- neglecting to take into account the person using the dial. (Okay, I can see why Magnus went into robotics. His people skills are even worse than mine.)

But there is one teensy tiny little thing about the story that struck a wrong chord with me. When did Robby's hometown of Littleville get located in Colorado?

I have all of the original run of Dial "H" For Hero from House Of Mystery. Littleville was clearly a coastal city. One story mentioned that the town had docks, and the second story had Robby foiling an attack on a nearby city called Whale Harbor (as an energy being called Super-Charge).

To me, the name "Whale Harbor" suggested that it was somewhere in New England. This suggestion was probably reinforced by the 1980s version of Dial "H" For Hero, which was definitely set in "the New England town of Fairfax." (The state was never explicitly mentioned, but a background clue in DC Comics Presents #44 suggests that Fairfax was in Rhode Island.)

Somewhere along the line, though, someone got the bright idea that Littleville was in Colorado. I think the first reference I saw of this was in the Dial "H" For Hero special from 2000's Silver Age crossover event. That story had Robby foiling an attack at a missile base (I think there was at least one reference to it being a NORAD base in the various comics from the crossover).

Placing Littleville in Colorado may have been more a story requirement for "The One-Man Justice League" than anything else, but it still struck a slightly wrong note with me. You would think that DC's writers and editors would have taken enough time to do a little bit of research in their archives.

I suppose that the powers that be at DC Comics could always explain the change in location as an aftereffect of something like Crisis On Infinite Earths, or as being caused by one of the occasional ripples in Hypertime. I just wish they would give us an explanation. Any explanation will do. Even an "Oops, we goofed."


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ENTRY #24
0712.23


[WARNING: This essay contains potential spoilers for Jennifer Estep's novels Karma Girl and Hot Mama. If you have not read either of these books, if you think you might be reading them, or if you are simply the whiny little girly-man type that goes into a frothing rabid frenzy at the thought of encountering anything that even vaguely resembles a spoiler, scroll down to the next entry NOW. This will constitute your only warning!]

In Karma Girl, Carmen Cole is a reporter who quite by accident finds herself specializing in reporting on superheroes and ubervillains. Or more precisely, the public unmasking of same.

She proves to be quite good at what she does, too. Before she finally moves to Bigtime, New York (and the heart of the story), Carmen mentions that she has exposed the identities of 13 heroes and villains.

And she adds to her total during the course of Karma Girl. Carmen learns the identities of Bigtime's most prominent band of heroes, The Fearless Five. She also learns the identity of Malefica, leader of The Terrible Triad, the most infamous group of villains based in Bigtime.

One question seems to have been left unanswered, though. What happens to the a hero or villain after they have been unmasked?

For the six whose identities Carmen learned during the course of Karma Girl, we do know what happens. (That is a large part of the book's plot, after all.) The only identity Carmen publicly revealed during the book was that of Tornado, one of the Fearless Five. Soon after uncovering his identity is published, he commits suicide -- or, that is what we are led to believe for most of the book. Just before dropping Carmen into a vat of radioactive goo near the end of the book, Malefica states that she killed Tornado, and made his death look like a suicide.

While Carmen does learn Malefica's identity, she doesn't publicly reveal the secret. Not directly, anyway. For one thing, The Terrible Triad had captured first Striker, and then the remaining members of The Fearless Five. Carmen had been working with The Fearless Five after Malefica originally gave her the one-month deadline to learn the rest of their identities, and she is a little distracted by trying to think of some way to rescue her rescuers.

For another, Carmen learned that Malefica was really Morgana Madison, the publisher of The Expose -- her employer. Carmen learned that Morgana/Malefica had hired her to unmask The Fearless Five so that all of them could be eliminated the same way that Tornado had been. In other words, Carmen discovered that Malefica had been playing her for a fool the same way that she had been by her ex-fiance, The Machinator. That was something that Carmen swore would never happen to her again, and she is more than a little pissed.

But in an attempt to neutralize any potential threat from Carmen, Malefica has (as Morgana Madison) also tried to publicly discredit Carmen, so directly revealing her double identity is not a viable option for Carmen. A more indirect approach is needed this time, so just before making what would appear to be a kamikaze attempt to rescue the rest of the Fearless Five, Carmen gives all the information she uncovered on Malefica's identity to her friend Lulu Lo, and tells her hacker friend to wait one hour before releasing the information to Bigtime's news outlets. Carmen specifically suggests that Lulu first release the information to SNN -- the Superhero News Network -- and The Chronicle, Bigtime's other major newspaper. (The latter, incidentally, is one of the many companies owned by Sam Sloane, the alter-ego of Striker.)

As Carmen is giving Lulu the information and instructions on releasing it, she doesn't expect to survive her assault on The Terrible Triad's lair. The best she is hoping for is that she will release at least one member of The Fearless Five before she is killed, and that whoever she frees will be able to free the others.

Well, things turn out quite differently from the way Carmen thought they would. Not only does she survive the encounter, it is The Terrible Triad who are presumed dead when the dust settles. (And when you consider the beating that Malefica receives at Carmen's hands, if she did survive, she will probably be either in need of extensive plastic surgery or recovering from it should she ever make a return appearance.) The multiple dips in Frost's frigid radioactive goo that Carmen is forced to endure leave their own mark, giving her superpowers and the edge she needs both to defeat the Triad and rescue The Fearless Five, and later to join the team as Tornado's replacement as Karma Girl.

(One minor nitpick here. Why do the heroes continue to call themselves "The Fearless Five" after Tornado's death? Were they planning to hold auditions for a replacement? Or was there already another group somewhere calling themselves "The Fearless Four" that precluded them using that name? I'm having mental pictures of Striker and Fiera conducting tryouts in much the same way as the Legion Of Super-Heroes regularly held tryouts in some of their 1960s stories.)

As for the remaining members of The Fearless Five, Carmen learns their identities during the one month that Malefica gives her, but when the deadline comes, Carmen flatly tells Malefica that she has no intention of turning over that information. After The Fearless Five rescue her on the first of several occasions (before she returns the favor), she becomes their ally. Slowly at first (and more than a little begrudgingly in the case of Fiera), Carmen finds herself becoming more and more a part of The Fearless Five. She initially finds herself in what is essentially the superhero version of witness protection, but finds herself taking on the role of superhero sidekick before she develops her own powers and becoming a full-fledged superhero. It would probably take an ubervillain with powers similar to Mr. Sage's telepathic abilities to force Carmen to reveal her allies' secrets.

But what of the heroes and villains that Carmen unmasked before arriving in Bigtime? We don't even learn all of their costumed identities; just four or five names that Carmen mentions in passing. What happened to them after their private lives became not so private?

I got the impression that things did not go so well for The Machinator, the first superhero Carmen unmasked (not to mention her ex-fiance). After Carmen discovered him in bed -- literally -- with his archenemy Crusher (who also turned out to be her now-former best friend), it was implied that he had something of a fall from grace. Not only did he and Crusher continue their romp between the sheets like a pair of nuclear-powered Energizer bunnies, they brought down the house -- or at least the hotel where Carmen and Mark's wedding was supposed to have taken place. According to Carmen, the hotel suffered considerable structural damage. (And I thought Klingons had some violent sexual practices!)

In the case of the ubervillains, we can assume that Carmen's unmasking was at least beneficial to the local authorities. I am assuming that the information that Carmen revealed in her exposes helped various law enforcement agencies to apprehend the villains. At the very least, I assume that the police would be able to make things more difficult for the villains to continue their normal operations. (Of course, in the comics, how many times have we seen superpowered criminals captured, only to see them escape once the writers came up with a new story using that villain? While Ms. Estep doesn't mention it, I suspect that the prisons in the Bigtime universe may have as much of a revolving door when it comes to ubervillains as the prisons in the DC and Marvel universes have when it comes to their supervillains.)

But the $256,000 question here is this: What has happened to the superheroes that Carmen has unmasked before she came to Bigtime? How did her unmasking affect them?

Carmen is again quiet on the subject, because she was more concerned with unmasking the heroes rather than what consequences might occur. At the time, she really didn't care; it took Tornado's death to change her feelings in that regard. So, we are left with suppositions and hypotheses. My own best guess is that, for the most part, the unmasking had to have had an adverse affect on the heroes. Carmen did mention that the authorities in some of the cities where she worked during her crusade wanted to send heroes and villains alike a bill for the damages they caused during their battles. It sounds as though it would be a distinct possibility that some heroes might find themselves tied up in litigation after Carmen publicly revealed who they really were.

Another possibility is that might find themselves at greater risk for attack from ubervillains, and not just the ones who had been unmasked by Carmen. After all, how long did Superman tell Lois Lane that they could never get married because he felt that she would be in constant danger from his enemies? (Never mind that Lois was finding herself in constant danger from his enemies even though they were only friends.) It might be something of a minor miracle that Tornado's death was the only one that came as a result of Carmen’s exposes.

It's implied more than anything else, but it seems that the primary consequence of a superhero being unmasked by Carmen is that the hero is no longer able to effectively function as a superhero. The Bigtime universe does not seem to have the equivalent of Ralph Dibny -- a hero who is so comfortable with the spotlight that he or she has publicly revealed his or her dual identity. Or if there is one, that hero hasn't been mentioned, and it's entirely likely that Carmen would be uninterested. After all, what is the point of unmasking someone who has already unmasked themselves?

But if it turns out that an unmasked hero somehow loses the ability to operate effectively as a superhero, what does he or she do then? Do they go into hiding, and then at some later point reappear under a new identity? And if they do, doesn’t it seem likely that the public would start thinking that new hero Major Magnet's powers seem awfully similar to the unmasked Magnetron's powers? Of course, this might hold true only if Magnetron had operated in a major city like Chicago or Los Angeles. If Magnetron had been a regional hero, living in Bozeman, Montana before relocating to Louisville and debuting as Major Magnet, it might escape all but the most diehard superhero watchers.

And now, in what truly has to be one of life's great ironies, Carmen finds herself on the other side of the mask, as a superhero. (Carmen, of course, thinks that it is just karma.) If she hasn't already, she will eventually realize that like Woodward and Bernstein before her, she has inspired some other young journalist, who will want to follow in Carmen's footsteps. Maybe even by uncovering the identity of the newest member of The Fearless Five.

Before she finally decides to become a superhero, Carmen has an encounter with Swifte, Bigtime's answer to The Flash. She tries to downplay her recently-acquired powers as martial arts skills, and Swifte plays along. But during their brief conversation, Swifte lets Carmen know that The Fearless Five have let the rest of Bigtime's superhero community know who really was responsible for Tornado's death. They were also told how Carmen had rescued The Fearless Five from The Terrible Triad. When Karma Girl made her first appearance as a member of the Fearless Five, it would seem almost certain that Swifte would know who she really was. But who else in Bigtime's superhero community knows?

And there is one other thing that none of The Fearless Five seems to have realized. When Carmen decided on a costume design, she settled for a silver costume -- the same color as Tornado's costume. Did she choose the color, even unconsciously, as a form of penance? It's particularly interesting to note that Fiera, who not only designed the costume, but was also engaged to Tornado, has not made the connection.

Of course, this may just be a case of karma working in strange ways . . .


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ENTRY #23
0712.14


Book Review
SECRET SOCIETY GIRL by Diana Peterfreund
(Random House, 2007)


I hereby confess: This review is going to go off on a number of tangents.

Sorry, but it can't be helped. As I was trying to organize my thoughts to write this review, my brain kept shooting off in a number of wildly different tangents -- and the occasional cosine as well. I realized that the easiest way to write this review was to incorporate them into the review. I'm hoping that it will make some sense out of the review.

The first tangents came as I was reading the text on the cover summarizing the book. Both of those came from TV. First came the announcement that was delivered in a stentorian voice at the beginning of Dragnet (slightly altered here to match the medium):

"DUM-DA-DUM-DUM! DUM-DA-DUM-DUM-DUMMMMM! The story you are about to read is true. Only the names have been changed to protect the innocent."

The other came from Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, and was an exchange between Dr. Bashir and his friend Garak. (The following lines may not be precise quotes, but they are close enough.):

"How much of what you told me was the truth?"

"My dear Doctor, it was all the truth."

"Even the lies?"

"Oh, especially the lies!"

That is my overall impression of Secret Society Girl. Diana Peterfreund takes truths, partial truths, and outright lies, and weaves them together in a way that equals the guile of the "plain, simple" Cardassian tailor. (Though I suspect that she does it without having to spend hours in the makeup chair that Andrew Robinson did to bring Garak to life.)

Peterfreund's playfulness with the truth begins with the setting of the novel. Her bio at the back of the book states that she is an alumna of Yale University, graduating with degrees in geology and literature. (Definitely an . . . interesting combination. Of course, I don't know how much room I have to talk, seeing as how I had a double major in journalism and theatre arts, and a minor in radio-TV.) So when she has the novel set at "Eli University," it doesn't take too much of a stretch of the imagination to conclude that Peterfreund is staying pretty close to home.

Amy Haskel is a junior at the aforementioned Eli University. As the editor-in-chief of the university's literary magazine, she expected to be selected for Quill & Ink, Eli's literary senior society. (The phrase "secret society" might also apply, but to hear Amy talk, Quill & Ink isn't that particularly secretive.) Amy's predecessor as editor of the lit magazine is in Quill & Ink, and had told Amy that her own selection was a fait accompli.

Amy would probably find great wisdom and understanding in the words of Gerald R. Ford. In his first address to the US Senate, Vice-President Ford began by saying, "A funny thing happened to me on the way to becoming Speaker Of The House."

Yes, Amy did get interviewed by one of Eli's secret societies. But instead of Quill & Ink, she soon discovered that she had been tapped by Rose & Grave, the oldest and most secretive of the secret societies. This was a source of puzzlement to Amy. She doesn't come from a rich family, she doesn't have any political connections, and . . . well, she doesn't have a Y chromosome. It was Amy's understanding that Rose & Grave was all male.

But Amy soon learns that she is one of the first women ever to be tapped for Rose & Grave. She is swept up in an initiation that the book's cover text describes as "a blend of Harry Potter and Alfred Hitchcock," and given the society name Bugaboo. (Were he still alive, I think Sir Alfred would probably find the juxtaposition more than a little amusing. Come to think of it, I think J.K. Rowling would more than likely get a chuckle or two out of the phrase as well.)

But Amy and the other new members of Rose & Grave also soon learn that they are at the nexus of a giant hornet's nest within the society; a hornet's nest that has been whacked with one equally giant Louisville Slugger. There are a group of alumni (or patriarchs, to use their jargon) who are less than thrilled at the induction of Amy and the other female members. These patriarchs (who include the Chief Of Staff to the President) want to keep the "NO GURLS ALLOWED" sign on the Rose & Grave tomb firmly in place. And they have no compunction about using whatever means necessary to punish both the new inductees, and the seniors who selected them.

At first, Amy wonders if this is all more trouble than it's worth, and is on the verge of quitting. But then, she and the other juniors get mad; mad enough to confront the patriarchs in their lair (well, the alumni club in Manhattan).

There are a lot more twists, turns, and convolutions to Secret Society Girl than the primary plotline I just gave. But trying to go through even a handful of those twists would more than likely result in a review that approached book-length itself. (Okay, maybe novelette-length. Still much longer than necessary.) And if I did that, what purpose would you have in reading the novel for yourself?

There is one minor tweak in the plot that I found particularly . . . interesting. At the beginning of the confrontation, the patriarchs tried to make the new members return their Rose & Grave pins. Amy and the others dug in their heels, and flatly refused to do so. Later, when talking about it in a ladies' room discussion, Amy comments that all of them probably would have either swallowed the pins or pinned them into their flesh before giving them back. And when one of the other "Diggirls" (as they dub themselves) says that it's too bad they aren't permanent, all of the girls immediately decide to get tattoos of the Rose & Grave seal (a rose within an elongated hexagon). As tattoos on fictional characters go, it's pretty cool (and for a trypanophobe like me, that's saying something), but I still think the coolest fictional tattoos belong to Jim Brass, Angelus, and Chakotay.

I also identify with Amy in at least one respect. During the course of the book, several people comment that Amy tends to overanalyze everything. Amy herself admits to this. And she also has the habit of making lists on any and every topic. Oh, yeah, I know those characteristics quite well. I possess those qualities myself to some degree.

Some people may have trouble keeping track of some of the characters, as Amy will refer to them both by their real name and by their society name, often on the same page. For me, it wasn't that much of a problem. For me, it was the same as when I was reading Karma Girl. There is no difference when Carmen Cole refers to Sam Sloane and Striker, or when Amy Haskel refers to Clarissa Cuthbert and Angel. In each case, you know both names refer to the same person, or at least you do after the first two or three times. (I suppose it helps if you've been a lifelong fan of superheroes.)

Secret Society Girl is Diana Peterfreund's first novel, but there are more to come. Amy Haskel's adventures are far from over.

I hereby confess: I enjoyed this book.

I hereby confess: I'm looking forward to the second book.


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ENTRY #22
0711.12


My recent musings about Mindprobe triggered another memory or two about the game. In this case, the memories are of a musical nature. And yes, they do relate to the game.

The first one occurred after one game. Yes, it was a game that I won. As the post-game chat continued, I could almost hear the plaintive tone in one of the other player's voice as he -- or maybe she; userids don't always give clues to gender -- asked, "Purple, is there anything that you don't know?"

I don't know why I typed the answer I did. Part of it, I suppose, is that I cannot resist being given an opening. In any event, I answered, "Don't know much about history . . . " Another player caught the spirit of the moment, and added, "Don't know much biology . . . " Several of us ended up "singing" the song together, and having something of a laugh over it in the process.

The second one happened over the course of a number of games -- again, games that I won. After the games, I was trying to be cute, and I typed in the chat area, "Oops, I did it again." As you might suspect, this was around the time that the song of the same name first hit the airwaves, so the other players were adding "Britney" to the repertoire of names they had for me. (I will say, though, that I have never been photographed leaving a car and showing that I wasn't wearing any underwear.)

After about the third or fourth time I typed "Oops, I did it again," the seeds of a filk were planted in my imagination. I shared it with my fellow Mindprobe players, and as I recall, they were rather amused by my efforts. I feel the urge to share it with the rest of the world, and this seems as good a place as any to do it. I hope this brings a chuckle or two to your lips.


Oops, I Probed It Again
(sung to the tune of "Oops, I Did It Again")

I think I did it again,
I made the high score,
And got the Green Screen.(1)
Oh, Baby,
You grumble as you leave,(2)
But I wish you'd believe,
I’m not being mean.

Because to ace all the questions,
That's just so typically me,

Oh, Baby, Baby,

Oops! I did it again,
I won the Mindprobe,
Got caught up in the game,
Oh, Baby, Baby,
Oops! You all swear it's so,
That I'm sent from below,(3)
But I'm not that big a brain.

You see, the problem is this,
The questions appear,
Challenging me to always raise my score.
I'll try to throw a game,(4)
But even with my best shot
The results are the same.(5)

Because to win all the T-shirts(6)
That's just so typically me.

Baby, Oh!

Oops! I did it again,
I Probed all your minds,(7)
And then won the game.
Oh, Baby, Baby,
Oops! You all swear it's so,
That I'm sent from below,
But I'm not that big a brain.

Oops! I did it again,
Probed your minds and then won the game, oh Baby,
Oops! You swear that I'm sent from below,
But I'm not that big a brain.

Oops! I did it again,
I won the Mindprobe,
Got caught up in the game,
Oh, Baby, Baby,
Oops! You all swear it's so,
That I'm sent from below,
But I'm not that big a brain.

Oops! I did it again,
I Probed all your minds,
And then won the game.
Oh, Baby, Baby,
Oops! You all swear it's so,
That I'm sent from below,
But I'm not . . . that . . . big a brain.


And now a few explanatory footnotes. When I originally typed this entry, I had all these really nice-looking superscripts. For some reason, though, they didn't work when I uploaded the entry to LiveJournal:

1. The Green Screen popped up for the winner(s) at the end of the game. It was a congratulatory message, and if it was one of the themed games, asked for the player's name and address so they would know where to send the T-shirt and other prizes.

2. When I had one of my occasional hot streaks, the others were not shy about voicing their displeasure. I never said anything when I went several days without winning, though. I never took the game as seriously as everyone else thinks I did.

3. More than once, it was suggested that I came straight from the Hellmouth.

4. Yes, there were a few times when I deliberately threw a game -- usually when the prize was a book or movie that I already owned.

5. Most of the time, I had no problem throwing the game. There was one time, though, when I couldn't lose no matter how hard I tried. And another time, someone else was trying to lose just as hard as I was. I tried harder that time, though. No one was going to beat me at throwing the game.

6. As I mentioned before, part of the prize included a Mindprobe T-shirt. I probably have the largest collection of them.

7. Yes, I was accused of getting the answers by probing the other players' minds -- among other things.


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ENTRY #21
0711.01


It's times like this that I find myself missing Mindprobe.

Mindprobe was an online SF trivia contest that The Sci-Fi Channel held on their website several years ago. The mechanics of the game were simple. You were given a trivia question having to do with science fiction or fantasy, five possible answers, and 20 seconds in which to decide on the correct answer. There were 35 questions in each game, and the person who had the most correct answers at the end of the game was the winner.

One other feature of the game was the chat. Players that were logged on could chat with each other before, during, and after the game. Yes, I used the opportunity to showboat just a little. My username for Mindprobe was the same one I use here -- well, actually, the correct spelling was "PurpleRanger." And the other players felt free to taunt me as much as I taunted them. And they did. My username was usually shortened to Purple, Purp, or PR. That was if they were in a good mood. If they were really wanting to needle me, the names were other things that were purple. Grape Ape. Tinky Winky. And of course, the source of all evil in the universe -- Barney. That was one of their favorites.

Mindprobe made its debut in 1997 during SCIFI.CON 2.0, the second online convention held by SCIFI.COM (or as it was known in those days, The Dominion). They held games on two of the days, and I won once each day. My prize was a SCIFI.CON 2.0 T-shirt.

A few months later, The Dominion began hosting regular weekly games. Originally, this was going to be tied in with a game show that would be broadcast on SFC. The online games were to be the qualification rounds for the TV show. Unfortunately, that part of the show never materialized. It's a pity, because I think it would have been fun. What's worse, SFC planned (and abandoned) the idea for a game show just before game shows began a renaissance with Who Wants To Be A Millionaire? And yes, I was the first winner of that first qualification game.

I became a regular Mindprobe player. I suppose it would be more correct to say that I was a regular Mindprobe winner. I'm good with trivia. My family doesn't like watching Jeopardy! with me, because I'm one of those people who has the question before Alex Trebek can finish reading the answer. I'm not completely certain, but I think I was at least one of the reasons The Dominion instituted the one-win-per-month rule. You might win more than one game during the month (and there were times when I did just that), but you could only win one prize.

At first, the prizes were simply a Mindprobe T-shirt. At the time, the games were general SF trivia. They were held on Wednesday nights beginning at 9:00 PM EST, and there were two games each week. The T-shirts had the Mindprobe logo on the front -- an alien smiley face resembling a TV screen -- and The Sci-Fi Channel's original logo on the back.

Eventually, the games shifted to themed games. One week might be about books and authors, while the next week might have a Star Trek theme. And in addition to the T-shirt, there would be a prize related to that week's theme, usually books or videos. I think that was another reason they instituted the one-win-per-month rule. They announced the themed games several weeks in advance, so I got in the habit of taking a good look at the games (and their prizes), and deciding in advance which games I really wanted to win.

If I wasn't interested in the prize, I would let someone else win those games. I wasn't so competitive that I had to try to win every single game, and I was generous enough to let someone else win a prize that I didn't want -- or on a few occasions, when the prize was something that I already had. This didn't always work as well as it sounds. There were a few times when I won for the second time in a month. I usually told the game moderator (whom the players dubbed "Yellow Voice" or simply "Yellow" because his comments always appeared in bright yellow on the chat screen) if they could give the prize to the second place finisher. And they usually did. There were one or two times when I found myself winning in spite of my best efforts to let someone else win, and there was one time when I deliberately threw the game because I really wanted to win the prize in the following week’s game. (It didn't help that the person who did win that game was trying to do the same thing I was doing.)

There were times, of course, when I didn't do so well. My worst night came when Mindprobe held a Mystery Science Theatre 3000 theme night. For one thing, I have only seen a few episodes of MST3K, and I my combined score for the night was in the single figures. Yes, that’s less than 10 out of 70. For another thing, Mindprobe was invaded that one night by a horde of rabid MST3K fans who were acting like a bunch of hyperactive seven-year-olds who had been given way too much sugar. I would have had less of a headache if the chat had been disabled for that night. I think most of the regulars felt the same way, and when things returned to normal the following week, we all breathed a sigh of relief.

My best night, on the other hand, came when the theme was Buffy The Vampire Slayer. My combined score for the two games that night was 67 out of 70 -- a 34 in one game, and a 33 in the other. That 34 was also my highest score ever. No, I never got the golden 35 out of 35. Very few people did. But I suppose I made up for it by getting the green screen (the congratulatory screen that popped up at the end of the game for the winners) more often than anyone else.

I think my biggest Mindprobe victory, though, came in 1998, during SCIFI.COM 3.0, The Dominion's third and final online convention. One of the events announced for the convention was a three-day Mindprobe tournament. Two games each night, all with different themes. I don't remember all of them, but I do remember that at least one game had a Star Trek theme. In addition to the prizes given for the individual games, the person with the highest cumulative score at the end of the tournament would receive $200 in merchandise of their choice from The Sci-Fi Channel's online store (something else that, sadly, they no longer have).

I won two of the six games outright, tied a third, and came in second place in a fourth game. Because of connection problems, I didn't do as well in the other two games. (Finished in the middle of the pack, as I recall.) My cumulative score was 180 out of 210. Yes, I won the tournament, and I acquired quite a few books for my library as a result.

The themed games were popular, but some of the players wanted the general trivia games as well, and they eventually game back, in a slightly different format. The themed games remained on Wednesday nights, but a daily Mindprobe was added, Mondays through Fridays at 7:00 PM. The game was played the same way, but it was only one game a night. The prize structure was also a little different. Prizes were given for the highest cumulative scores for each month, and the winners could choose from about a dozen or so different prize packages. Only four of the those held any real interest for me, so once I won those, I was more laid back when it came to playing daily Mindprobe. Oh, I usually won several games a month, but I was playing much more for the fun of it, and for the chance to chat with the other players.

Eventually, I became known as Mindprobe's Grand Master. I will admit that this was a title I created myself. But it had its origin in the section of the Mindprobe site that held the stats. Among them were highest individual game-winning scores, scores from the previous few weeks, and the top 10 cumulative scores of the year. Toward the end of the year, this would become known as the 1000-Point Club board, because all of the highest cumulative scorers would have scored at least 1000 points cumulative for the year. And after the 11th person broke 1000 points, I suggested to Yellow that the board be changed to show all of the 1000-Point Club members -- a suggestion that I am happy to say was adopted.

I am not one for false modesty in this case -- I was almost always at the top of the cumulative high score board. And when someone became a member of the 1000-Point Club, I would announce it with great fanfare in the chat area, welcome them to the club, and dub them a Mindprobe Master. After I did this a few times, I began calling myself the "Grand Master Of Mindprobe," and the name stuck.

But as they say, all good things must come to an end, and eventually, so did Mindprobe. I think it was a case of the Sci-Fi Channel deciding to move the resources devoted to Mindprobe into other areas. As I recall, the themed games went away at the end of 2000, and the daily games disappeared during the summer of 2001. During that time, I got a job that had me working during the games, so of course, I wasn't playing. I tried to play during The Millennium Philcon, but I can't remember if the game actually took place. And when I switched to a daytime shift during September 2001, I was able to play again, but the game was gone.

I suppose why I'm remembering all of this now is that The Dominion held SCIFI.CON during the weekend closest to Halloween. At the moment, it's bringing memories of my greatest Mindprobe triumph. And I'm remembering a lot of good times in the process.


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ENTRY #20
0710.31


Book Review
KARMA GIRL by Jennifer Estep
(Berkeley Books, $14.00)


I have loved the superhero genre since . . . well, probably since I have been able to read. Maybe even before that. I appreciate a well-written superhero story, and Jennifer Estep has written such a story with Karma Girl.

For Carmen Cole, it all started with a very bad day. It was her wedding day, and the best thing that happened to her was that 30 minutes before the ceremony, she caught her best friend -- her maid of honor -- and her fiancé in bed together.

As someone asks Carmen later in the book, "There's something worse than catching your fiancé and your best friend together on your wedding day?" In this case the answer to that was a resounding "Hell, YES!" Matt and Karen had been concealing far more than their affair from Carmen. Matt had not yet told Carmen that he was also The Machinator, the resident superhero of Beginnings, Tennessee. And as it turns out, Karen was also Crusher, the local ubervillain -- and The Machinator's arch-nemesis. "Strange bedfellows" doesn't begin to describe this sitruation.

And that old line about a woman scorned doesn't begin to describe Carmen's outrage at this betrayal. And as a reporter, she has the means to vent that wrath. She grabs a disposable camera that was meant for the wedding reception that would not be happening now (because the wedding preceeding it wouldn't be taking place, either), and she takes photos of the two. You see, Matt and Karen were still partially dressed, both in their attire for the wedding and in their costumes (worn underneath the wedding attire, of course). Carmen then goes to her newspaper, still in her wedding gown, tells her editors what she has, and sits down to write the story.

That story was just the beginning. Carmen decided right then that she was on a mission; to expose everyone in a costume and mask, hero and villain alike. She was determined that no one would be played for a fool the way she had been ever again. And over the next three years, she does just that, moving from newspaper to newspaper, each time to a larger city. In that time, she unmasks 13 different superheroes and ubervillains. Although, according to a comment or two that Carmen makes in her narration, "expose" definitely fits what she does to The Kilted Scotsman. I suspect that Jennie Breeden of the webcomic The Devil's Panties would definitely approve (and Jennie would probably wish that she had been there to help with her trusty leafblower).

Finally, Carmen makes it to Bigtime, New York, where the editors of The Expose hire her for what would be her biggest coup: Uncovering the identities of Bigtime's best-known heroes, The Fearless Five, and their most frequent adversaries, The Terrible Triad.

At first, things go the way they had since Carmen began her quest. After a lot of research, and trusting in the same gut feeling that helped her unmask all those other heroes and villains, Carmen exposes Tornado, the first member of The Fearless Five. But things turn sour when, during a celebration at The Expose to mark Carmen’s success, she gets the news that Travis Teague, Tornado's alter-ego, had committed suicide.

Suddenly, the golden girl reporter isn't so golden. Or as Carmen put it, "My star hadn't just fallen, it had been snuffed out like a candle." She starts receiving death threats, not only from superheroes, but also from the general public. (Tornado was a fairly popular hero, after all.) And worst of all, she is reassigned to the society desk at The Expose.

And just when Carmen thinks it can't get any worse -- you guessed it, it does. She is kidnapped by The Terrible Triad. They were . . . disappointed that Tornado's death had caused Carmen to abandon her quest to unmask as many superheroes and ubervillains as possible, and Malefica, the Triad's leader, makes Carmen an offer that she can't refuse. She has one month to unmask the rest of The Fearless Five, and hand that information over to Malefica. If she fails, Frost, another member of the Triad, gets to use Carmen as the first human test subject for some of the experiments he has been conducting (which would involve, among other things, submerging Carmen in radioactive goo).

And that's when things really start to get interesting . . .

Karma Girl is one of those books that has something of a split personality. My local Borders, for instance, shelves it in their romance section. On the other hand, the Louisville Free Public Library decided to put it in their science fiction section. And it fits quite well in both sections.

In the early 1960s, when Stan Lee was just beginning the Marvel Age Of Comics, he was quite fond of giving his characters alliterative names: Peter Parker, Steven Strange, Reed Richards, Matt Murdock, Susan Storm, and J. Jonah Jameson, just to name a few. Jennifer Estep evokes memories of that era in Karma Girl. The vast majority of the characters in the book bear similar names, beginning with Carmen Cole herself. In fact, when you do run across the rare character whose name isn't alliterative, it almost strikes you as just a little strange. (And this is all of the characters, not just the heroes or the villains.)

One thing that I particularly like about Karma Girl is that Estep writes superhero stories that are fun to read. Maybe there is a place for the dark and gritty superhero writing possibly best personified by the writing of Frank Miller, but you know what? They're really not that fun to read. The version of Batman that really got me hooked on superheroes was Adam West's version, not Frank Miller's.

I think Estep said it best on her website: "Where's the joy? Where's the fun? What good are having superpowers if you don't really like using them?" And I like it that one of her favorite superhero characters is Hiro from the TV series Heroes. As she puts it, "[Hiro] thinks it's the coolest thing in the world." That feeling of fun -- of the pure joy of having superpowers -- is what she wants to get across in Karma Girl.

And Estep manages to infuse that sense of fun in all of her superheroes, not just those in The Fearless Five. One notable example of how she accomplishes this with her minor characters is Granny Cane. Carmen is at the police station when the 70-something superhero brings in yet another purse snatcher. Carmen finds it hard to believe that anyone would still be trying to rob a little old lady who was wearing a purple mask. Apparently, the petty crooks in Bigtime still haven't learned, because two or three times a week, Granny Cane drags in one more would-be purse snatcher . . . after she has pummeled him silly (or should that be sillier?) with her cane.

Karma Girl is Jennifer Estep's first novel, but it definitely won't be her last. She has at least two more Bigtime novels in the works, and I am guessing that she has plans to make this more than just a trilogy. I'll be looking forward to her next tales from Bigtime.


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ENTRY #19
0710.10


Book Review
THE BOYS NEXT DOOR by Jennifer Echols
(Simon Pulse)


I picked up Jennifer Echols's first book, Major Crush, because the cover art of two drum majors doing the tango caught my eye. I picked up The Boys Next Door, her second book, because I wanted to see if she would be as entertaining the second time around. Long story short, she is.

Oh. You're wanting more details than that. I suppose it would be a rather short review if I left it at that, so read on . . .

Major Crush followed a familiar plotline used quite often in the romance genre: Two people, who don't particularly like each other, are forced together by various circumstances. As time goes on, though, the couple gradually realizes that they don't dislike each other as much as they thought they did. The Boys Next Door goes down a quite different path. If it were a movie, it would be called a "screwball comedy." Think What's Up, Doc?, or some of the more farcical moments of The Secret Of My Success. Maybe even Three's Company.

Lori McGillicuddy has long had a crush on Sean Vader, the middle brother of the boys mentioned in the book's title. She has decided that this summer, she is going to do something to attract Sean's attention, to get him to realize that she is a girl. And she knows just how she is going to grab his attention -- cleavage-enhancing tank tops (now that she has some cleavage to be enhanced), bikinis, et cetera, et cetera.

All of Lori's careful planning goes out the window, though, when at the first Friday night party of the summer, she stumbles upon Sean playing tonsil hockey with Rachel, his younger brother Adam's girlfriend. And she tells Adam, who had been wondering where Rachel was.

Adam . . . is just a little upset. Understandably, he wants Rachel back, and he has an idea on how to achieve that goal. The next morning, he suggests to Lori that they pretend to be a couple as a way to put a halt to Sean and Rachel's romance before it can get started. Adam can get Rachel back, and Sean will once again be available for Lori to pursue.

Lori agrees, and as the saying goes, wackiness ensues.

Adam and Lori's plan follows some . . . interesting convolutions. For instance, on their first "date," he takes her mud riding -- riding in his family's old pickup truck at a local mud pit. It is a place to be seen, but Adam doesn't tell Lori beforehand, and she is wearing these very delicate high heels. And of course, the inevitable happens, and the truck gets stuck in the mud. Lori is better prepared for their next mud riding date; she wears rubber flip-flops that, as she put it, could be hosed off. (Personally, I think wellies would have been a better choice. There would have been less chance of Lori losing one [or both] if she did have to schlep through the mud, and she would have to hose off only the boots, as opposed to having to hose off the flip-flops and her feet and legs.)

There is a strong thread of sibling rivalry running throughout The Boys Next Door. Besides the girlfriend stealing, there is the sudden realization early in the book that Adam is now just the slightest bit taller and heavier than Sean. And when Adam makes his displeasure known over Sean's choice of a makeout partner, it is the first time that he has ever had the upper hand in a fight.

There is also a strong thread of cluelessness running through the book as well. Sean seems completely unaware that Lori has always had a major crush on him. And while Lori has been making goopy eyes at Sean for years, she is equally unaware that Adam has wanted to be more than just a buddy with her. As I said, wackiness ensues.

There are a couple of things I like about Lori. For one thing, she is a reader. At one point, she mentions curling up with I, Robot, and she is talking about Asimov's short story collection, not the abomination of a movie that was allegedly based on said collection. And Lori also mentions Arthur C. Clarke during the book -- although I don't know how Sir Arthur would react to a teenage girl commenting on his kissing abilities. (She does think he writes a great space story, though.)

On the other hand, there is one error (albeit a minor one) that set my teeth on edge. Lori is also a fan of the James Bond movies, but when she mentions Halle Berry's walking out of the ocean in Die Another Day, she doesn’t seem to realize that it is a tribute to Ursula Andress from the very first 007 movie, Doctor No. And at one point in her narration, Lori says, "She looked exactly like a James Bond girl from the pre-Halle Berry era, one of those ditzes who stood safely in the corner and never had a dagger when she needed one, like Honey Ryder, or Plenty O'Toole." Again, Lori seems to forget that when we first saw Honey Ryder, she had a diving knife strapped to her hip. She is also discounting a number of Bond girls before Jinx who were more than able to take care of themselves, like Barbara Bach's Agent XXX, or Honor Blackman's Pussy Galore. And I'm trying to decide whether this mistake was supposed to be something on Lori's part, or if this was something that Echols made, and her editor didn’t catch.

As I did when I was reading Major Crush, I began thinking about who I might cast in a movie version of The Boys Next Door. Of course, I have an advantage over real producers and casting agents. I don't have to limit myself to contemporary actors at their current ages. I can hop into my London police box (circa 1963) and grab the actor I think is best from the age that fits the character.

For Sean and Adam, I think a couple of real-life brothers would work best -- Luke and Owen Wilson. At the moment, I don't recall if they have appeared on screen together, but from what I have seen of them in interviews, they share an easygoing goofiness that would seem to be right for playing Sean and Adam. (And as I also recall, there is a third Wilson brother, who would be a good choice to play the oldest Vader boy, Cameron.)

For Lori, I would go with Michelle Trachtenberg. There is something about Lori that reminds me of Trachtenberg as Dawn Summers; particularly during the first season that Dawn appeared on Buffy The Vampire Slayer.

As I said, I picked up The Boys Next Door because I wanted to see if Jennifer Echols would be as good to read a second time around. Let me put it this way -- I will be seeking out her third book without any hesitation.

And guess what? I made it through the entire review without wondering if Sean and Adam had a cousin named Darth.


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ENTRY #18
0709.25


From the Constitution of the World Science Fiction Society, Article 3 -- Hugo Awards:

"Section 3.3.14: Additional Category. Not more than one special category may be created by the current Worldcon committee with nomination and voting to be the same as for the permanent categories. The Worldcon Committee is not required to create any such category; such action by a Worldcon Committee should be under exceptional circumstances only; and the special category created by one Worldcon Committee shall not be binding on following Committees. Awards created under this paragraph shall be considered to be Hugo Awards."

Tricon, the 1966 Worldcon, used that section to create a one-time Hugo category -- "Best All-Time Series." The nominees for that award were:

The Foundation Trilogy by Isaac Asimov
The "Barsoom" series by Edgar Rice Burroughs
The "Future History" series by Robert A. Heinlein
The Lensman series by Edward E. Smith, Ph.D.
The Lord Of The Rings by J.R.R. Tolkein

The winner was The Foundation Trilogy.

Now, I will readily agree that these five series should be ranked among the best that the genre has produced. But are they really THE best SF/Fantasy series of all time?

I have heard it suggested that the modern science fiction era began in 1926, with the publication of the first issue of Amazing Stories, the first magazine devoted exclusively to science fiction (or "scientifiction," to use the term Hugo Gernsback coined for the genre). Yes, I know that there is probably someone out there who would try to engage me in a Long And Pointless Argument on the matter, but I will choose to ignore that person. For one thing, while I can engage in Long And Pointless Arguments just as well as the next fan, I'm not interested in doing so on this subject. For another, choosing 1926 as The Beginning Of Science Fiction As We Know It, and the reasoning behind that choice, seems plausible enough and sensible enough to me.

In any case, my point -- and as Ellen DeGeneres once said, I do have one -- is this: There were 40 years between the beginning of modern SF and the selection of The Foundation Trilogy as the Best All-Time Series. Well, make that 39 years, because the 1966 Hugos were presented for works first published the previous year (something that still holds true today), so the Hugo voters of 1966 would have considered series published through the end of 1965. It has now been 41 years since Tricon was held. More time has elapsed between Tricon and the present than between the beginning of modern SF and Tricon.

Can we honestly say that there have been no series published in the intervening 41 years that are at the very least equal to those five series? Were the people involved in running Tricon being just a little presumptuous in thinking that these five series were superior to any other SF or Fantasy series that would ever be published? Haven't there been series published since 1966 that should be at the very least considered the equal of these five series?

In case you haven't figured it out by now, my answer to that question is this: Yes, there have been a number of series published in the past 41 years that are probably just as good as the five nominated back in 1967. Maybe even better. (Yes, I know that some members of SF fandom are right now accusing me of having committed blasphemy. Deal with it.) But if next year's Worldcon, Denvention 3, announced that they would be administering their own Hugo for Best All-Time Series, I would be willing to bet on at least two things happening. First, there would be some members of fandom who would be outraged, utterly outraged, and be demanding to know (in the loudest and most strident voices possible) how Denvention would dare commit such an act of sacrilege. (And it would be likely that just as many fen, if not more, would be wondering what the big deal is, and why these people would be causing such a fuss.) Second, you would not see the same five nominees on the ballot in 2008 that you did in 1966.

I suspect that The Foundation Trilogy (which Asimov expanded upon in later years) and The Lord Of The Rings might stand a good chance of making this hypothetical ballot. But what other series would make the cut? At the moment, I can think of several that might be considered.

Important Disclaimer here: Please keep in mind that some of these series I have read, others I have not. I mention some series because I know they have strong followings in fandom, and I know that some of their fans would support their nomination most enthusiastically. Other series I mention because I like them, and they are among the ones I would nominate if this hypothetical situation became real. In no particular order, they are:

The Dune series by Frank Herbert -- I read the original Dune once, a long time ago. To be honest, I found the book drier than Arrakis itself, and I was never tempted to pick up any of the sequels. But there must have been a lot of readers who liked it; it was the first novel to win both the Hugo and Nebula Awards for Best novel. (As a matter of fact, the original Dune won the Best Novel Hugo at Tricon.)

The Chronicles Of Narnia by C.S. Lewis -- I strongly suspect that this series just missed the ballot back in 1966. I don't know if the Hugo administrators of that era were required to publish a list of nominees that just failed to make the ballot, as they are today. If they were, I would be interested in learning what series just missed being in the top five.

The Time Quintet by Madeleine L'Engle -- A Wrinkle In Time was the first SF novel I can remember reading, and based on some of the things I read after her recent death, she was the introduction to SF for a lot of other people as well. L'Engle may have been thought of as a "children's writer," but she never wrote down to them. I reread Wrinkle both when I was in high school and as an adult, and I found the book just as enthralling as I did when I first read it in fifth grade.

The Dragonriders Of Pern by Anne McCaffrey -- Two of the books in this series received Best Novel nominations, and I was rather disappointed when both of them lost. While I haven't read some of the more recent books, I have thoroughly enjoyed the Pern books that I have read. I should also mention that McCaffrey has written a number of other series, and one them could conceivably appear on this hypothetical ballot instead of the Pern books: The Crystal Singer series, The Rowan and its sequels, and the Acorna series (which McCaffrey co-wrote with Margaret Ball).

The Amber series by Roger Zelazny -- I have read only a couple of Amber short stories. I remember those stories because Realms Of Fantasy published them in 1995, just before Zelazny's untimely death. The stories I did read made me want to read more, but as of yet, I haven't done so. (You know the old saying -- so many books, so little time? Applies here.)

The "Ender" series by Orson Scott Card -- Card was the first person to win back-to-back Best Novel Hugos, and both of those winners were in this series. Personally, I have never read any of the "Ender" books (let's face it, it is impossible to read everything in SF now), but I'm willing to bet that any series that has won two Best Novel Hugos is going to be given some serious consideration by the people who nominate and vote on the Hugos.

The "Miles Vorkosigan" series by Lois McMaster Bujold -- Bujold is the only other writer to win back-to-back Best Novel Hugos. In fact, Bujold has won four Best Novel Hugos (which puts her in a tie with Robert Heinlein for the most Best Novel Hugos), and three of them were Vorkosigan novels. I've read parts of the series, and what I like most about it is the humor. It isn't the absurd, over-the-top humor that you find in the "Hitchhiker's Guide" books; it's a more subtle humor that has you chuckling before you even realize that you are reading something funny.

The "Darkover" series by Marion Zimmer Bradley -- again, I have not read any of these books (so many books, so little time), but I do know that this series has been more than a little popular. As a matter of fact, about all I know of the series is its name and that Bradley wrote it. That, and I know that the series has some very enthusiastic fans.

The "Honor Harrington" series by David Weber -- This is probably my personal favorite of the series I have listed. E.E. "Doc" Smith may have been the one to create the subgenre we call "space opera" (he even invented the term, as I recall, or at the very least used it in one of his Lensman books), but Weber has taken the concept and refined it with not only the Honor Harrington books, but also with other books such as March Upcountry and its sequels (co-written with Eric Flint). I remember a blurb in one of the Honor Harrington books (taken from a Starlog review from the 1990s) suggested that Weber would enter the new century as the new master of military SF.

The "Tek" series by William Shatner -- Okay, not really. I just threw this one in to see if you were really paying attention. Of course, I wouldn't put it past some people to nominate this series simply as a means of discrediting any hypothetical additional category along these lines.

The "Hitchhiker's Guide" series by Douglas Adams -- Or as the series is now usually described, the five-book "Hitchhiker's Trilogy." Douglas Adams created a thing of exquisite beauty -- a science fiction series that is rip-roaringly hilarious. And he did it in at least a half-dozen different media; all telling the same basic story, but each version having slightly different details. (And each one is unfailingly funny.) Some comedian once said that dying was easy; it was comedy that was hard. Adams has proven that, because I cannot think of another SF writer who has even come close to writing anything as funny as Arthur Dent's (mis)adventures.

The "Skolian Empire" series by Catherine Asaro -- I like Catherine Asaro. First of all, I have had the chance to meet her at a few conventions, and she is a very nice person. Second, she is a damn good editor, which is how I originally became aware of her. And third, she is an amazing writer. She writes novels that garner rave reviews from not only the nuts-and-bolts hard SF lovers, but also from romance readers. And she has won awards in both genres. That is probably much harder to do than it looks, and Dr. Asaro makes it all look so very easy. Oh, and she is also an honest-to-Goddard rocket scientist. (Did I mention that I think she is a really cool person?)

I am sure that you have noticed that I have listed considerably more than five series here. There is a reason or two for this. For one thing, I mentioned the series that most quickly came to mind when I started writing this entry. I realize that for every series I mentioned, there are an equal number of series that I haven't mentioned. For another, I didn't want to list only five series and then say that they would be the ones to make the final ballot if there were another Best All-Time Series Hugo, because quite frankly, my track record when it comes to predicting Hugo nominees and winners is woefully abyssmal.

Besides, we all know that Shatner's "Tek" series would be the clear winner, don't we?


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ENTRY #17
0708.29


Book Review
THE MAN FROM KRYPTON
Edited by Glenn Yeffeth
(Benbella Books, 2005, $17.95)


Do you want just one reason to get this collection of essays? Okay, how about this? Larry Niven's essay "Man Of Steel, Woman Of Kleenex" is reprinted here.

If I'm not mistaken, All The Myriad Ways has been out of print for at least a few years. And while Niven's somewhat irreverent look at Superman's sex life can be found on the Internet, there is just something about reading it in book form that makes it a little more . . . satisfying, I guess.

Okay, I did say that "Man Of Steel, Woman Of Kleenex" was a good enough reason to pick up this collection of essays (subtitled "A Closer Look At Superman") if you needed just one reason. If, on the other hand, you want more than just that one essay, there are 19 others for your edification as well. Some of the essays, like Niven's, take a look at the lighter side of the Man Of Steel. Others take a more serious, almost scholarly approach to the subject.

Lawrence Watt-Evans starts the collection with "Previous Issues." I am going to have a hard time looking at Superman's costume with a straight face for a while after reading this essay. There's a good chance that you will, too.

Adam Roberts asks the question "Is Superman A Superman?" In other words, is Kal-El a superman in the way that Friedrich Nietzsche meant when he coined the word Übermensch? As Roberts gives a cursory explanation of Nietzsche's term, he goes on to state, "But since the 1950s (roughly speaking), English-language scholars have stopped translating Übermensch as 'Superman,' generally preferring the translation 'Overman.'" Roberts seems to be more than a little amused by some of the explanations generally given for the preference, when he (and anyone with more than three functioning brain cells) knows that English-language philosophers couldn't stand the thought of having their wonderful philosphical concept compared to a mere comic book character like the Man Of Steel.

In "You Will Believe A Man Can Walk," Sarah Zettel writes about actor Christopher Reeve, both in the roles he had other than Superman, and about his life following the 1995 accident that left him paralyzed. She opens her essay by mentioning a certain scene in the movie Deathtrap (yes, that scene), and her reaction when she initially saw the movie was quite close to what mine was when I saw the movie.

Keith R.A. DeCandido takes a look not only at Christopher Reeve, but at all of the actors to portray the Man Of steel in "Actor And Superactor." At the time The Man From Krypton was published, Superman Returns was still in production, so this was taking a look at the very big red boots that Brandon Routh was going to have to fill. I agree with DeCandido on a few things. I get the impression that, like me, his first exposure to Superman outside of the comics was Bud Collyer's voice. There is something about the way that Collyer dropped his voice an octave as he said, "This is a job . . . for Superman!" that makes it quintessential. On the other hand, I like Dean Cain's portrayal of the part much better than Reeve's, and I suspect that we could get into an argument on that subject.

And speaking of the star of Superman Returns, Lou Anders has "A Word Of Warning For Brandon Routh." Anders takes a look at the so-called "Superman curse" that has befallen a number of actors to play the part. His thread of logic gets stretched very thin, especially when he draws parallels to the US Presidents who have died in office. Very thin indeed.

In "The Mirror Of Gilgamesh," John G. Hemry writes about the one person that Superman fears the most, and the one person without whom he would fall victim to that greatest fear. And yes, in the process, Hemry does make some comparisons to the ancient myth of Gilgamesh.

Chris Roberson's "Jewel Mountains And Fire Falls" takes a look at Krypton itself. The backstory of Superman's birthworld has changed as much as he has over the years, as different writers and editors have added information on the now-lost planet, edited it, and in a couple of cases completely revamped what we knew.

And as I mentioned at the beginning, "Man Of Steel, Woman Of Kleenex" is reprinted here. I was a little disappointed at its positioning in the book. It should have either been the first essay, or at the very end (saving the best for last). Instead, Yeffeth chose to put it somewhere in the middle.

This is but a sampling of the essays in The Man From Krypton. Other essays take a look at Lex Luthor, at the TV series Smallville, at the idea of Superman as modern mythology, and at the parallels between Superman and Batman, among other topics. But I won't give a rundown of every single essay, because what would be the point of your picking up the book and reading it for yourself?

The Man From Krypton presents a vast array of viewpoints -- or at least as vast as you can get in 20 essays. Even if you find the thesis of one essay to be absurd, boring, or just merely annoying, turning a few pages will bring another essay with something that is perhaps more palatable to your tastes.

There is one more piece that I wish Yeffeth had included in The Man from Krypton. That would be the lyrics to Tom Smith's filk "Superman's Sex Life Boogie." Yes, it was inspired by Niven's essay. (As I understand it, Niven was delighted when he first heard the song, and even joined Smith in singing it at a convention where the two were guests.) Perhaps if BenBella publishes another collection of Superman essays, it will be included.

And I think there is potential for another collection of closer looks at Superman. The Man Of Tomorrow has been around for almost 70 years (next year marks the 70th anniversary of Action Comics #1), and the character has become thoroughly ingrained in our culture in those seven decades. There are a lot more viewpoints out there. Finding and collecting them -- well, that might be a job . . . for BenBella Books!


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ENTRY #16
0708.23


Book Review
THE GREAT SNAPE DEBATE
by Amy Berner, Orson Scott Card, Joyce Millman
(Borders, 2007)


In the months leading up to the release of Harry Potter And The Deathly Hallows, there were easily a dozen books published on the singular subject of what would happen in the final book in J.K. Rowling's series about the boy wiazrd. This book (which was developed by BenBella Books exclusively for the Borders chain of bookstores) focuses on just one question among many left by the ending of the sixth book, Harry Potter And The Half-Blood Prince. That question: To whose side does Hogwarts potions master, and head of Slytherin House Severus Snape's allegiance belong? Is he an agent of Lord Voldemort, or has he been an agent of Albus Dumbledore all along?

The Great Snape Debate is a flip book, fashioned after the style of the old Ace Doubles. One side puts forth "The Case For Snape's Innocence." Flip it over, and the other side presents "The Case For Snape's Guilt."

In presenting each side of the argument, Berner, Card, and Millman bring supporting evidence from the first six books in the series, along with extensive quotes. There is the initial argument for each side of the question, sections on Snape as hero or villain, a look at Snape's life (is he just misunderstood, or rotten to the core?), and a look at Slytherin House (not always evil, or home of the ethically challenged?). There is even a look at the career of Alan Rickman, the actor who portrays Snape in the Harry Potter movies, at both what could be called his heroic and less than heroic roles. There are even two Top 10 lists -- the top 10 reasons why we love Snape, and the top 10 reasons why we love to hate Snape.

One interesting insight that I picked up from The Great Snape Debate was the comparison drawn between Snape and Dr. Gregory House from the TV series House MD. It surprised me at first, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that the two are indeed quite similar. If the two were ever introduced, they would probably get along very well -- much to the dismay of everyone around them. (And now that I think about it a little more, Hugh Laurie, the actor who plays House, would have been as interesting a choice to play Snape as Rickman has been.)

A speculation that brought an even bigger chuckle was what Snape's secret vice might be. As he is presented in the books, Snape is someone who doesn't drink that much, and really doesn't socialize, and since he both dresses and acts like a Puritan minister, he probably isn't the type to do drugs. Muggle pasttimes such as video games and the Internet would probably hold little interest for him, but the authors suggest that there is one form of Muggle entertainment that is more than likely to be Snape's guilty pleasure. And if the speculation is true, Carrie Ann Inaba and Tom Bergeron (among others) would be surprised to learn that Severus Snape was one of their most ardent viewers.

In presenting both sides of the Snape question, the authors prove one thing over anything else. J.K. Rowling created an intriguingly complex character when she added Severus Snape to the Harry Potter stories. The authors do not reach any definitive answer to the question. Instead, they preferred to leave the readers guessing, and discover the answer in the pages of Deathly Hallows.


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ENTRY #15
0708.03


Book Review
MAJOR CRUSH by Jennifer Echols
(Simon Pulse)


I'm quite certain that you have heard the old saying, "Never judge a book by its cover." While I am sure the saying may have had some validity at some point in the distant past, these days, it's a load of crap. The whole point behind the art on book covers and dust jackets (not to mention cover text and blurbs) is to give the shopper browsing in the bookstore at least something of an idea about what's inside the book. These days, the publishers want you to judge the book by its cover (or at least by its cover art).

Such was the case when I first saw Major Crush in Borders. The cover features two drum majors doing the tango. That cover caught my eye, and it piqued my curiosity enough to make me want to learn more.

It's interesting to note that there are several interesting parallels between Jennifer Echols and her heroine, Virginia Sauter. From Echols's website, I discovered that, like Virginia, Echols was the first girl to be drum major of her high school's marching band. (The website has a photo of Echols in uniform, and she was quite the hottie.) Even though Echols stresses on the dedication page that her parents are nothing like Virginia's, she did make Virginia's dad an OB/GYN, just like hers. And she borrowed one other aspect from her youth for Major Crush. As Virginia mentions in passing:

"This meant that after I was home sick from school, my mother would scribble an excuse for me on a pad printed with a cartoon uterus and the slogan of a menopause drug: 'Just like the estrogen she used to make!'"

Virginia is a former beauty pageant contestant; the "former" stemming from a number of events that happened a couple of years earlier. (Those events are mentioned during the book, but they are enough of a plot spoiler that I don't want to go into any more detail than that.) After tossing her tiara, Virginia gets her nose pierced, takes up drums, and eventually decides that she wants to be the one in front of the band, leading it. And to everyone's surprise (possibly even hers), Virginia gets the job.

Virginia may be the first girl to be drum major of her high school marching band, but she isn't the only drum major. She's sharing the responsibility with Drew Morrow, the previous year's drum major (and having multiple drum majors is also a first for the band). Drew isn't particularly happy with this arrangement. He succeeded his two older brothers as drum major, and years earlier, their father also held that job. Drew feels that sharing the drum major responsibilities with Virginia is a demotion. And with the old band director more or less sleepwalking through band camp (he was getting ready to leave to become a mail carrier), Virginia and Drew aren't playing well with each other. And the band's performance reflects that.

The new band director, Mr. Rush, decides that the status quo is going to change, even if he has to bang Virginia's and Drew's skulls together. And banging their skulls together is about the only thing he doesn't do. One of the first things Mr. Rush does to force Virginia and Drew to start cooperating more is to have them do a dip at the beginning of the band's performance. (Hence the cover illustration.) This does not sit well with Drew's girlfriend, Tracey Reardon. Or is it Cacey Reardon? Well, it's one of the Evil Twins (or as Virginia refers to them, "blonde hair, big boobs, and her sister"), that much is for certain. Which one, though -- only they know the answer to that question. When Virginia asked him pointblank, Drew was amazingly clueless. (For all he knows, Drew could be dating both of them, and he apparently wouldn't realize it.)

As Virginia and Drew begins to work together more (spurred on by Mr. Rush's suggestions, coercions, and out and out threats), the band's performance begins to improve. And the drum majors go from being adversaries (Virginia makes the comparison to Tupac Shakur and Notorious BIG; a comparison later echoed by Mr. Rush) to allies (you and me against the crazy band director) to friends (sharing some very personal confidences in the process).

There were a few interesting incidental details I learned about Major Crush only after I discovered Echols's website and blog. For instance, she tuckerized her agent, making her a victim of the Evil Twins' perfidy. (Said agent found this rather amusing, especially the part where her fictional version was given a boyfriend named "Gator.") It's not particularly necessary to know minutia like this, but it always gives an added chuckle if you do.

As I read the book, one thing I especially liked was Echols's use of language. I don't think I had ever seen the word "majorette" used as a verb before. And Echols writes some wonderfully descriptive sentences. My favorite of the book had to be this one: "Her bags and boots and sequined leotard and tiara sat in the passenger seat like a pool of melted majorette." (It's on page 121, for those of you who may be curious.)

Another thing I found myself doing as I read Major Crush was thinking about who I would cast if I were making the book into a movie. For Virginia, it would probably be Reese Witherspoon. If I had a fusion-powered DeLorean, I would fire up the flux capacitor, and go back to when Reese was making Cruel Intentions. The Reese Witherspoon of that time would be perfect for the part. For Drew, I would probably go with Tom Welling, again maybe going back two or three years.

And although in the book Mr. Rush is in his early 20s (this is his first job after graduating), the actor who I thought had the right blend of manic energy and outright insanity to play the part is a little older than that. Danny Bonaduce.

There is one cute parallel in Major Crush, which would be the start for, if not a sequel, then at least a companion book. As Virginia and Drew are gradually becoming friends (and perhaps more?), there is also a budding romance between their best friends, Allison and Luther. Allison is one of the band's majorettes, and I would love to see if Echols could get away with using the line, "And this one time at band camp . . . "

Echols has a sparkling sense of humor, and Major Crush is a spectacular debut novel. I'm not sure how she could get any better, but I'm looking forward to reading future titles by her.


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ENTRY #14
0707.28


Book Review
CONFESSIONS OF A TEEN SLEUTH by Chelsea Cain
(Bloomsbury, 2005)


There is no such person as Carolyn Keene.

"She" is a house name, a creation of the Stratemayer Syndicate sometime in the 1930s. "Keene" served as a unified authorial voice for the Nancy Drew series of mysteries, alongside other house names such as Franklin W. Dixon (the "author" of the Hardy Boys series) and Victor Appleton (the Tom Swift "author"). And of course, Nancy Drew herself is a fictional character; a complete fabrication of this syndicate.

That's what the publishers want you to believe, at least. The truth is, Nancy Drew and Carolyn Keene really did exist. Carolyn was Nancy's college roommate who, after hearing Nancy tell about some of the mysteries that she had solved, used them as the basis for the Nancy Drew mysteries. In the process, though, Carolyn got a lot of the details wrong. A lot of them.

That is the premise of Confessions Of A Teen Sleuth. A now-elderly Nancy has finally had enough of the errors, half-truths, and outright lies told about her over the decades. She is mad as hell (well, maybe mad as heck), she isn't going to take it anymore, and she has decided to set the record straight with a first-person account of what really happened.

Confessions begins in 1926, with the first time that Nancy met Frank and Joe Hardy, and hops, skips, and jumps through the subsequent decades. Along the way, she encounters what I suspect is every series character ever created by the Stratemayer Syndicate. Some, like the Hardy Boys, become good friends. Others are acquaintances, or are mentioned only in passing. And still others, like Cherry Ames . . . well, let's just say that she and Nancy don't get along that well, and leave it at that.

When I first started reading Confessions, there was something about Chelsea Cain's writing that was a mystery in itself. I couldn't quite figure it out until I went by a couple of bookstores. After flipping through a few Nancy Drew and Hardy Boys books, though, it hit me, and hit me hard enough that I had to keep from laughing out loud.

If you have never read any of the Nancy Drew or Hardy Boys mysteries (or if it has been a long time since you have read one), there is a certain . . . clunkiness to the writing style. You might even call the style wooden. Oh, who am I kidding? The writing style in these books is more wooden than the combined casts of every Supermarionation series Gerry Anderson ever made. Ms. Cain manages to emulate that style perfectly, and I think she does so with her tongue firmly planted in her cheek.

Ms. Cain does make one or two mistakes along the way. The most noticeable one to me was her encounter with Encyclopedia Brown (which I don't think is a Stratemayer property, but I suppose is similar enough to them that most people wouldn't notice). She had his parents call him "Encyclopedia," which they never did. They always called him by his real name, Leroy (and I'll refrain from any comments on whether or not he was the baddest kid in the whole damn town). But that's a minor quibble at best.

Cain also manages to throw in more than a few interesting details about the characters along the way. Some of them are subtle, and contain more subtext than the entire run of Xena: Warrior Princess. Others are outright surprises. I mean, who knew that Nancy's friend Bess Marvin would turn out to be a cougar? (And this happened long before that term became popular, by the way.)

I should also mention the interior illustrations by Lia Miternique. She copies the style of the illustrations in the Nancy Drew books with the same aplomb as Cain does the writing style. It all comes together in a wonderful gestalt.

The only complaint I have with Confessions Of A Teen Sleuth is that, at 160 pages, it's way too short. After reading it, I found that I wanted more. I wanted to be able to laugh just a little more with this well-crafted, lovingly written parody.


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ENTRY #13
0703.31


[FANFARE OF TRUMPETS]

The final ballot for this year's Hugo Awards was released a few days ago, and there was definitely some good news involved.

I received said good news Thursday morning, with a phone call from Joe Major. His book HEINLEIN'S CHILDREN: THE JUVENILES had been nominated in the Best Related Book category. (I didn't get to see the entire ballot until yesterday, but obviously, that was the most important part of the ballot.

I probably should have known that Joe had been nominated. I hadn't heard from him for the better part of a week; probably because he knew that if he did call, he could have expected a minor interrogation on the subject. In other words, "Have you heard anything yet?" He wouldn't have said anything (not until the ballot was officially announced), but I suspect I would have been able to infer the correct conclusion just from what he did not say.

Yes, I was pleased to hear the news. I remember reading the various sections of the book when they originally appeared as a series of essays in FOSFAX. I know that I had said something along the lines of "Have you ever thought of putting these together as a book?" more than a few times, and I think there were others who shared the same sentiment with Joe. Well, a publisher finally showed some interest, and after a lengthy gestation, the book was published last year.

When I have told people about Joe's essays on Heinlein's juveniles, I usually say that there are doctoral dissertations that don't cover their subject in as much detail as Joe did. Okay, so I haven't read that many dissertations. I would not be surprised to see one that covered its subject matter in less detail than one of Joe's essays on any of Heinlein's books. When they originally ran in FOSFAX, these essays were printed in 7-point type, and ran at least two to three 8.5x11" pages -- per installment. The essays usually ran in two or three parts. Yes, Joe pays more than a little attention to detail.

Yes, I am really hoping that HEINLEIN'S CHILDREN wins the Hugo. I'll admit it, part of it is because Joe is a friend. Most of it is because I think it's a damn good book. And part of it is because this year is Henilein's centennial. Robert Heinlein is still considered one of the major writers of science fiction, almost 20 years after his death, and I think it would be fitting to have a book on his works receive SF's greatest recognition during the centennial of his birth.


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ENTRY #12
0701.18


Last time, I talked about how the Big Heart Award was being renamed to honor Forrest J Ackerman. At the end, I said that while Forry does deserve an award named after him, I would prefer something that (theoretically, at least) everyone in SF fandom could have a say in who the recipients are, like the Hugo Awards.

I've been giving the subject some thought, particularly what such an award would honor. As I have been thinking about it, two things came to mind. First, Forry loves science fiction in all media. Whether books, or movies, or TV, or whatever else, he has a fondness for all SF. Second, out of all his exploits, I suspect that he is probably best known for his editorship of Famous Monsters Of Filmland. (It's definitely one of the top three things for which he is best known.)

When I combined those two bits of information with the idea of a new award, the proverbial light bulb went off. Why not an award for science fiction that crosses the boundaries between media? (I realize this might sound a little vague at the moment, but as I continue, things should become a little clearer.)

As I mentioned previously, I see this award as being presented under the aegis of the World Science Fiction Society. (As I said, this would theoretically make everyone in SF fandom eligible to nominate and vote for these awards.) It would use the same nominating and final voting procedures as the Hugo Awards, and fall under the same general rules outlined in Article III of the WSFS Constitution. (Sections 3.2, 3.4, and 3.6 through 3.12, if you want the specifics.)

Several possible categories for the award came to mind. To me, the most important category would be BEST MEDIA MAGAZINE. My rough definition of this category is "Any generally available publication devoted to science fiction, fantasy, and related subjects as it appears in multiple media, and which is known primarily for its non-fictional content." If it will make a little more sense, this would be the category for which Famous Monsters would have been eligible. (I'm trying to parallel my definitions with those of the Hugo categories, so there might be one or two other things added as well. This is a ROUGH definition, remember.)

I thought of two other categories as well:

BEST FICTION: "Any work of commercially published science fiction or fantasy which is either A) an adaptation of a motion picture, television, or other dramatic script, or B) utilizes characters and/or concepts from science fiction or fantasy in another media."

Okay, that definition is really rough, but I think it gets my point across. I'm talking about SF which is derived from movies, TV, and other sources. There is a lot of it on the shelves, and even if you want to apply Sturgeon's Law to all of it, that still means that 10 percent is pretty good. But even if it's as good or better than anything nominated for the Hugos, you’ll never see any of these stories nominated. I feel that there are some among those who vote for the Hugos who take the idea that the Hugo is a "literary award" way too seriously, and would be absolutely horrified at the thought of a media tie-in making the Hugo ballot. (This is just my impression; any similarity to reality may be completely coincidental.)

And I used the phrase "commercially published" to specifically exclude fanfiction. I don't want to get that particular debate started. I could see far too many legal issues (and headaches) involved if we went down that road.

BEST NON-FICTION: "Any non-fictional book whose subject is related to the field of science fiction or fantasy in other media, appearing in book form for the first time during the previous calendar year."

Again, this is a rough definition, but this category is a parallel to the Best Related Book category in the Hugos. This category would cover works ranging from general encyclopedic works on SF movies or TV to books on the making of specific movies or TV series to published scripts to compilations of essays such as The Science Of Superheroes or Buffy The Vampire Slayer And Philosophy. (Yes, those two are actual books.) In theory, all of these works would be eligible for the Best Related Book Hugo, but for some reason, books like these rarely if ever appear on the ballot.

The basic idea behind all of these awards is simple. I feel that works that cross over between media don't get the recognition that some deserve, and creating an award or awards that do so would also be the perfect way to honor Forry. And by making the awards WSFS-sponsored, it would be a way for as many fans as possible to express their opinion.

Granted, the first big step would be get the WSFS Business Meeting to agree with me that this is A Good Idea. And I'm not certain what the likelihood of that would be. I have a feeling that some BM attendees would be be chomping at the bit to yell, "Object To Consideration!" at their first glimpse of the proposal on the agenda.

As for what to call the award, my thought is that its official name should be the "Forrest J Ackerman Award." But knowing fandom the way I do, though, it will probably become better known as the "Forry."

As for the award itself, it should be some rendering of Forry himself. And in keeping with the tradition set by the Hugos (I am thinking of this as sponsored by WSFS, remember), the base design should be left to the discretion of each Worldcon.


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ENTRY #11
0611.26


Out of all the news I heard coming from this year's Worldcon, there was one thing that both delighted me and bothered me. That was learning that Forrest J Ackerman was the winner of this year's Big Heart Award. It delighted me, because Forry has done so much for science fiction, both on the pro and fan sides, that he has probably deserved the Big Heart not once, but several times over the decades. Of course, for most of that time, he was the one presenting the Big Heart Award during the Hugo Award ceremonies. That made it unlikely that he would ever receive the award, at least until he he stepped aside from presenting it a few years ago (that was 2001, I think).

The part that bothered me, if only a little, was hearing that the award would henceforth be known as the Forrest J Ackerman Big Heart Award. It isn't the fact that an award would be named for him that bothered me; not only do I think Forry has deserved the Big Heart, I think he has also deserved having some award named for him, in recognition of his long service to science fiction fandom. What bothers me just a little is that, up until now, the full name of the award was the E. Everett Evans Big Heart Award.

Now, if I'm remembering the details correctly, Evans was a well-known fan in the 1950s and earlier. The Big Heart was established after his death as a tribute to Evans, and to commemorate fans who exemplified Evans's "big heart." (If I am getting this wrong, please correct me.) I suppose the fact that most fans don't know the full story about Evans was one of the reasons (if not the main reason) for the renaming, but I would have preferred that it would have been better to make that full story better known, perhaps by printing it in each Worldcon's program book.

As I said, I heartily support the idea of an award named in Forry's honor. But I would prefer that it be something that all of SF fandon would (at least theoretically) have a voice in selecting. Something, for instance, that would be nominated and voted upon using the same process as the Hugo Awards. Maybe even something that would be awarded under the auspices of the World Science Fiction Society. To me, that might be a more fitting tribute to Forry -- and leave Evans's tribute intact as well.


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Entry #10
0607.24


The final ballot for this year’s Hugo Awards has been out for a couple of months now. In fact, since the deadline for voting is almost upon us, I thought it was time to post my annual picks for the Hugo Awards.

I’ve been making my picks known for a few years now, in various fora. This, in spite of the fact that my picks are right only about one third of time. I’ve joked once or twice that announcing my picks for the Hugos is the kiss of death for those picks. If I really thought that was the case, I would probably announce as my picks the nominee that I least wanted to win, and see if that had any effect.

Okay, my success rate at picking the winners isn’t all that great. That won’t stop me from announcing my picks. I have way too much fun doing this. So without further ado, here are my choices for this year.


2006 HUGO AWARDS:

BEST NOVEL: There is rarely any method to my madness when it comes to making my picks. Most of the time, it’s the nominee that I like best. Other times, when I’m not familiar with all of the nominees in a category, I may make a pick purely on a gut feeling. This time, it’s a gut feeling.

My Pick: OLD MAN’S WAR by John Scalzi

BEST NOVELLA: I wouldn’t call this a gut feeling, but one of the nominees won the Nebula Award in this category a few weeks ago. I suspect this might be one of those instances where the Hugo and Nebula voters think alike.

My Pick: “Magic For Beginners” by Kelly Link

BEST NOVELETTE: Easy choice on this one. I had to go with the nominee who had the brass cojones to lift the title from one of Isaac Asimov’s best-known works. For that matter, the title was originally used by Otto Binder, and both Asimov’s anthology and Binder’s story are fondly remembered by long-time readers. Let’s see if Doctorow’s story will be equally fondly remembered years from now.

My Pick: “I, Robot” by Cory Doctorow

BEST SHORT STORY: Sometimes it’s the story that gets you, sometimes it’s the title. This time, it’s the title.

My Pick: “The Clockwork Atom Bomb” by Dominic Green

BEST RELATED BOOK: I saw my pick in this category in my local library, and I have checked it out several times in the past few months. Yes, I think it’s a rather fascinating tome. Sooner or later, I’m going to have to break down and purchase my own copy. (This was also the only one of my nominations in this category to make the final ballot, so it’s an easy choice.)

My Pick: SCIENCE FICTION QUOTATIONS by Gary Westfahl

BEST DRAMATIC PRESENTATION, LONG FORM: I’m faced with a tough choice here, because ALL of the nominees are not just good, they’re damn good. This time, it’s another gut feeling.

I am hoping that this year won’t see the start of a trend repeating from a few years back. When the LORD OF THE RINGS movies were on the Hugo ballot a few years ago, I got the impression that some voters went, “Ooooh! Tolkien! LOTR!” and didn’t even look at any of the other nominees in the category. I also think that since Peter Jackson felt that he was making one really, really long movie (instead of three merely long movies), LOTR should only have been eligible once, after the last installment had been released. In a similar vein, I hope that the Hugo voters this year will not automatically go, “Ooooh! Narnia!” and ignore any of the other nominees.

My Pick: SERENITY

BEST DRAMATIC PRESENTATION, SHORT FORM: Now that DOCTOR WHO has made a comeback, I would really like to see it win a Hugo. But with three different episodes on this year’s ballot, I don’t know if this will be the year.

I also noticed the continuation of a rather disturbing trend – the inclusion of (for lack of a better term) a frivolous nominee. I suspect that the appearance of these frivolous nominees is the work of some fans who are still upset over The Split in the BDP category a few years ago. I have no hard evidence, but this seems like their way of showing their dislike for The Split by nominating something that really shouldn’t be on the ballot.

My Pick: “Dalek” --- DOCTOR WHO

BEST PROFESSIONAL EDITOR: I’m going to start sounding like a broken record here, so if you’ve heard this before, you can skip to the next category. How many times has Dr. Schmidt been nominated in this category? I find it hard to believe that he has not been THE best at least once in all that time. I’m really hoping that this is finally the year that he wins the Hugo.

Come on, even Susan Lucci finally won her Emmy (after what, 17 tries?). Maybe if Dr. Schmidt finally does win this year, the appropriate presenter should be Ms. Lucci.

My Pick: Stanley Schmidt

BEST PROFESSIONAL ARTIST: As always, both of the artist categories are going to be tough picks. I think it will come down to a flip of the dice, a roll of the coin.

My Pick: Donato Giancola

BEST SEMIPROZINE: I wasn’t too surprised when one of the British nominees won last year, given the site. It would be nice to see someone other than Science Fiction’s Worst Dressed Sentient Being (aka Charles Brown) walking up to receive the award in this category. (I don’t have anything against LOCUS personally; I just feel that it should not automatically be the winner in this category every year.)

My Pick: EMERALD CITY

BEST FANZINE: It would be so much easier if one of the fanzines which I nominated med the final ballot. At least I could say something like, “I’m going with the only one of my nominations to make the ballot.” Unfortunately, I can’t do that this year, so it may come down to another random choice.

My Pick: CHALLENGER

BEST FAN WRITER: Okay, here’s my annual rant on the subject. There is no way that Dave Langford has been the best in this category every year since 1989. No one is that good --- not even Harlan Ellison. If the voters can’t even consider voting for someone else in this category, then it is so stagnant that the category needs to be eliminated.

I was a little surprised when three of my nominees made the final ballot. Of course, that makes who gets my #1 vote a little difficult, but I think I will go with someone who should have been on the final ballot much more often than he has been.

My Pick: John Hertz

BEST FAN ARTIST: See my earlier comments in Best Professional Artist. They hold true for this category as well.

My Pick: Teddy Harvia

JOHN W. CAMPBELL AWARD FOR BEST NEW WRITER: I usually don’t make a pick for this award, because I’m usually unfamiliar with the nominees. This year, though, one of the nominees is also a nominee for the Best Novel award. Somehow, I suspect that might give him the inside edge.

My Pick: John Scalzi

The full list of nominees can be found on LACon 4's website:

http://www.laconiv.org/2006/hugos/nominees.htm

As usual, it will be interesting to see how close I come to picking the winners. I think I got four correct last year. I'm hoping for at least five this year.


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ENTRY #9
0607.05


I enjoy filk. I've even written a few filk songs (which, all modesty aside, seem to have been well received whenever I have performed them). But I have an idea for a filk that is just too big for one person to write. This one needs to be a collaboration, with contributions by as many filkers as possible.

The inspiration came from the movie A MIGHTY WIND. If you haven't seen it, it is a mockumentary that that sends up folk music much in the same way that THIS IS SPINAL TAP did for rock/heavy metal. The movie has a number of songs that can only be described as Really Bad Folk. And these songs were deliberately written to be Really Bad, for comedic purposes.

The title song was what started the wheels turning inside my head. This tune would make a good filk. A chorus for the song came quickly to mind. A first verse came to me as I was writing this:

As I travel down the spacelanes of the stars I love so much,
Every spaceman and comet miner, every lame man on a crutch,
They're abuzz about this feeling, about a taste that's everywhere,
About this mighty solar wind that's blowing everywhere.

CHORUS:
A mighty solar wind is blowing,
It's kicking up the dust,
It's sending out a message to every single one of us.
A mighty solar wind is blowing,
Across the planets, moons, and stars,
It's blowing peace and love and hope
To beings near and far.

Now, if you've heard "A Mighty Wind," you'll notice that the first verse parallels the song's first verse. This was intentional; I wanted to set the mood with said first verse. Now, here's where the collaborative part comes in. I don't think I could ever write additional verses that could ever do the first verse and chorus justice. But I think there are plenty of filkers out there with the right mixture of imagination and twisted humor that could. (Scratch that; I KNOW that there are plenty of filkers that fit that description.) I would love to challenge any of them that might read this to write a verse or two (or more, depending on how your muse stikes you), using the tune from "A Mighty Wind."

Ideally, I would love to see this performed as a jam session, with as many filkers joining in as possible. I think it would make a great halftime entertainment at a Worldcon masquerade, once all of the masquerade entrants have their chance to strut upon the stage, and while waiting for the judges' results.

Anyone interested?

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ENTRY #8
0606.06


I think fandom missed a great opportunity a couple of years ago. It's an idea that could still be done, if there is someone who knows how to set things in motion.

The idea occurred to me when committees from Japan and Columbus, Ohio were bidding to host the 2007 World Science Fiction Convention. For some reason, I was thinking about SF fandom's big fan funds, the Trans Atlantic Fan Fund (TAFF) and the Down Under Fan Fund (DUFF). Both are forms of cultural exchanges. TAFF alternates sending a fan from North America to Europe, and from Europe to North America. Usually, this is for the selected fan to attend a major convention such as Worldcon, NASFIC, or Eurocon. DUFF does the same, alternating between North America and Australia/New Zealand.

As I was thinking about the funds, I realized that there wasn't a similar fund for Japan and North America. I also thought that this would have been a perfect opportunity to start one. For the moment, let's call it JAFF -- the Japan-Americas Fan Fund.

The initial administration for JAFF would have been handled by a representative from the two Worldcon bid committees. Whichever bid won the Worldcon, the other committee would select the first JAFF delegate to visit the winning committee. If Columbus won, the first JAFF delegate would come from Japan to visit the Columbus Worldcon. If, as it turned out, Japan won, the Columbus committee would select the first delegate to visit the Yokohama Worldcon. And of course, the following year the delegate would come from the other side of the Pacific -- alternating just like the TAFF and DUFF winners do. And just as the TAFF and DUFF delegates do, the delegates would run the election to choose their successor.

Unfortunately, I didn't know anyone on either of the committees to make this suggestion, and so this particular opportunity was missed. I still like the idea, and there just might still be enough time to set things in motion. That is, if there were enough fans who also thought this would be a good idea to raise the money, etc.


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ENTRY #7
0604.01


Last week, Paizo Publishing, the most recernt publisher of Amazing Stories, made it official. The world's first magazine devoted to science fiction, which had been on hiatus since last June, was suspending publication yet again. I'll admit that I've lost track, but I think this makes it least four times that AS has been cancelled since the early 1990s.

Like the phoenix of myth, Amazing keeps coming back. Every time it is cancelled, though, I keep wondering if the title's luck has finally run out.

I think there is a good reason Amazing keeps returning from oblivion. All of its recent publishers seem to think that the title strikes a resonating chord with science fiction fans. This is where the genre as we now know it began 80 years ago. The recent publishers all seem to have realized that the title is Something Special, a treaure worth guarding and nurturing. The problem (at least as I see it) is that none of these publishers have known what to do with that treasure once they had it.

I think Amazing Stories could succeed, if the right publisher invested the time and effort to make it succeed. The big question then becomes, who is that publisher?

The response that immediately comes to mind is Dell Magazines. They seem to be doing well with both ANALOG and ASIMOV'S, not to mention serving the mystery genre with ELLERY QUEEN'S MYSTERY MAGAZINE and ALFRED HITCHCOCK MYSTERY MAGAZINE. If Dell Magazines could find the right editor, and if they looked at it as a long-term project, I have no doubt that they could restore AMAZING back to its former glory.

There is only one other publisher that I think might be able to revive Amazing. That would be Sovereign Publishing, the publisher of REALMS OF FANTASY. Keep in mind that I am looking at this from purely a consumer's point of view. I have no idea how well ROF is actually doing, but from what I can see, it is selling well on the newsstands. Again, with the right editor, I think Sovereign would stand a good chance of bringing Amazing back to prominence. On the downside, Sovereign has already published (and folded) one SF magazine, SCIENCE FICTION AGE. SFA published some excellent fiction during its eight-year run (including several Hugo and Nebula nominees), but in the end, it didn't sell enough copies. Sovereign might not want to try publishing another purely SF magazine, even if it was a revival of Amazing Stories.

There is one more possibility, and that would be for some small press publisher to acquire Amazing, and publish it as a small press magazine -- at least at first. Start out small, and make Amazing (to borrow a phrase from another medium) "Must-Read SF." Then gradually build up the circulation and the press run as interest grows.

All of these scenarios depend on one very important factor -- finding the right editor. No, I have no idea who that right editor might be. But I think whoever that editor might be, he or she will have to approach the job as a long-term project. Because I think that's what really, truly reviving Amazing Stories will be -- a long-term project.

No matter who this hypothetical (for the moment) new publisher might be, I think one other thing they will have to do is find some way for Amazing to stand out. I think Paizo was trying to do this by mixing fiction with articles about upcoming genre movies. I believe the way Paizo put it was that they were trying to present amazing stories in all media. Nice idea, but it obviously fell short in the execution.

Maybe what needs to be done is to go with a retro theme -- an Amazing Stories for the 21st Century as Hugo Gernsback himself might have done it. More than anything else, make it FUN to read. Maybe you realize as you read a story that a couple of scientific facts aren't quite right, but it doesn't really matter because the story itself is just too darn interesting. Bring back covers where the men are Real Men, the women are Real Women, and the bug-eyed monsters are Real Bug-Eyed Monsters.

Yes, I would love to see Amazing Stories rise from the ashes once again. But even more, I would like to see it done in such a manner that another revival will never be needed.


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Entry #6
0603.25


I learned of the nominations for this year's Hugo Awards on Wednesday. I suppose that it was a little amusing that the news didn't appear on LACon 4's site until Thursday. I learned of the nominations from the LiveJournal of one of the nominees, Steven Silver. (Of course, I promptly congratulated him on his nomination.)

Maybe I shouldn't be too surprised that reports of the final ballot were mentioned in other venues before it was officially mentioned on the website. I have to assume that the nominees and the webmaster were given the information at the same time, and that the nominees wanted to share the good news with their friends/enemies/whatever as soon as they possibly could.

Of course, the most interesting bit of news was what wasn't on the list of nominees. LACon had exercised its additional category option, and was going to award a Hugo for Best Interactive Video Game. But when the nominees were announced, the category was noticibly absent. It was dropped because of a lack of interest.

This isn't the first time in recent years that a proposed additional category has failed to appear on the final ballot. In 1993, ConFrancisco announced plans to award a Hugo for Best Translator. Unfortunately, most of those who nominate for the Hugos felt that they weren't qualified to make the necessary judgement in this area, and it did not make the final ballot. In 1995, Intersection made a similar announcement to award a Hugo for Best Music, but it too failed to make the final ballot.

There could be several reasons why the category failed. I suspect that one of the main reasons, perhaps even THE main reason, is that a large number of Hugo nominators/voters take the idea of the Hugos as a literary award seriously. They didn't like the idea of a Hugo going to a video game, so they left that category blank when casting their ballots.

The way I read the description of the category, it was to go to a game that had its initial release during 2005. Version 7.4161984 of Alien Shoot-Out would not qualify, at least the way I read it. There may have been a number of SF-themed games released last year; just not enough that had their first (ie version 1) release to be eligible for the award.

There might a number of Hugo nominators who (gasp!) don't play video/computer games. I know I fall into this category. Personally, I find that there are other things to on my computer than play games (with the possible exception of Minesweeper). Those who don't play the games are not likely to be thinking about nominating them.

I should point out that none of these reasons are mutually exclusive. Any combination of the above reasons could be why the category failed. And it's just as likely that there might be some other reason that hasn't occurred to me yet.

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ENTRY #5
0602.21


I may not have attended last year's Worldcon, but I did pay attention to news of the WSFS Business Meeting. More than anything else, I was curious as to what business might be passed forward to LACon 4's Business Meeting.

At the moment, there is only one item passed forward that is sticking with me. It's a constitutional amendment coming up for ratification. This amendment would split the Best Professional Editor Hugo category into two; one for magazine editors, one for book editors.

The main reason this is sticking with me is because Chris Barkley was the one who proposed the amendment. Not only is he a friend, but I was surprised when I learned that the amendment had its first passage without his being present to argue for the amendment. (As Chris said in an email after Interaction, he had a very persuasive representative to speak for him.)

My initial reaction is that the amendment will probably be ratified at LACon 4. It has been my experience (and impression) that by the time any amendment to the WSFS constitution receives its initial passage, the vast majority of the debating, arguing, and general fighting has been done. Oh, there might be some final wrangling that takes place before the ratification vote, but I suspect that most of the business meeting attendees don't want to rehash everything. (Please keep in mind that it's probably a dangerous thing to try second-guessing the Business Meeting on anything.)

In one way, I find it a little ironic that this split in this category may occur. Originally, the Best Professional Editor award was the Best Professional Magazine award. But in the late 1960s or early 1970s, as the number of SF magazines dwindled, the award was renamed Best Professional Editor to acknowledge the growing influence of book and anthology editors in the genre. But while the final Hugo Awards ballot almost always has one or two book editors in the category, I think it has gone to a book editor only once. (Yes, Gardner Dozois is well-known as an editor of anthologies, but the Hugo voters have probably voted him the award in this category primarily in recognition of his editorship of Asimov's.) Now, with this proposed split, we will essentially be returning to a Best Professional Magazine award.

I know that there are some people who absolutely opposed to the idea of adding more categories to the Hugos; who think that there may already be too many categories. I'm not one of those people. In fact, I rather like the idea. The only question I have is whether or not there will be enough nominees in each of the new categories to support two Professional Editor Hugos. (I'm guessing that the answer to that is "yes," because I don't think Chris would have proposed the amendment if there weren't.)

Either way, I'm looking forward to seeing the results of the ratification vote at LACon 4's business meeting.

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ENTRY #4
0602.13


I received Progress Report #3 from LACon 4 a couple of weeks ago. Among other things, the report contains the Nominating Ballot for this year's Hugo Awards. It also contained the announcement that LACon was exercising its "additional category" option for the Hugos. This time, the additional category would be "Best Interactive Video Game."

The committee's reasoning for this category is sound enough. To quote the article from PR #3, "Fully half of all Americans play [video games]." The article also mentions that eight of the top 10 grossing films, and 17 of the top 20, are science fiction or fantasy. (The article didn't give either of those lists, which would have been nice to have.) The numbers are similar for interactive video games, whether they are played on a Playstation (or similar console), on the computer, or online. In short, the committee feels that IVGs have become an important part of the genre, hence the decision to honor one this year with a Hugo Award.

Here is how the category is defined, as it appears on the Nominating Ballot: "Any interactive computer, game console, or on-line graphics-based game whose subject is science fiction or fantasy and which has been released for the first time during the previous calendar year. Games reissued or ported to new platforms but not substantially changed do not qualify as new games for purposes of this award."

I am assuming that the committee believes that there were enough new games released last year that fit the above definition. I strongly suspect, though, that "No Award" may be the winner in this category.

This was my initial thought when I read of the announcement. It might be a gut reaction, but I do have reasons for thinking this way.

First, there is this line from the constitution of the World Science Fiction Society (WSFS), the organization (and I use the word in the loosest sense of its meaning) that presents the Hugos. It's the opening of Section 1.2, which lists WSFS's objectives. "WSFS is an unincorporated literary society . . . "

Maybe I should emphasize the word LITERARY. I know a lot of people who take the idea of WSFS as a literary society very seriously. These were the people who raised strong objections to splitting the Best Dramatic Presentation category a few years ago. (This in spite of the fact that the last I looked, drama was considered a form of literature.) If these people were against the idea of a second dramatic category, I can only imagine what their opinion toward awarding a Hugo to a computer game will be.

Second, I know that there are others who feel that the current number of permanent Hugo categories (13, plus the John W. Campbell Award) is more than enough, thank you very much. I don't know how fans in this group feel about the additional category provision, but I would not be surprised if I were told that most of them probably prefer that it be used sparingly, if it has to be used at all.

I am acquainted with fans who fall into both groups. They are regular attendees at the WSFS Business Meeting. They also vote for the Hugos -- something that the average Worldcon member neglects to do. As I said, this is just a gut reaction, but I would not be surprised to learn that most of these fans vote for "No Award" in this category.

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ENTRY #3
0504.01


It has been just about a week since the final ballot for this year’s Hugo Awards was announced.. I’ve looked at the ballot several times, and a few things keep coming to mind. They all seem to be variations on the same basic theme: There needs to be some change in the Hugo Awards.

Some things don't need to be changed. Like the nomination process, for instance. Each member makes up to five equally-weighted choices in each category, and the five choices that receive the highest number of nominations make the final ballot. (And if there are ties for fifth place, there are more nominees in that particular category.) Nice and simple -- why screw it up by making it more complicated? The final ballot is a little more complicated, but it seems to work. It isn't broken, so there's no need to "fix" it.

Most of the categories seem to be all right. There are a few, though, that I would say are in serious need of overhauling. Take the Best Fan Writer category. Since their inception in 1953, the Hugos have recognized achievement both on the fan and on the professional levels. But this one particular category is becoming moribund. The same person has won the award every year since 1989, and quite frankly, it is becoming a joke. I am not a regular reader of Dave Langford's writings, but from what I have read, yes, he is a competent writer. I cannot believe, however, that he has been THE best fan writer for the last 16 years. At some point, I have to believe that the Hugo voters are voting for him just because they always vote for him. If nothing else, that attitude is a slight to the other nominees in that category for the past 16 years -- some of whom have been equally as worthy of winning the award, if not more worthy.

Another category that needs to be overhauled or abolished is Best Semiprozine. For one thing, there is always the need to explain to those unfamiliar with the Hugos just what constitutes a "semiprozine." The best definition I can give is to start by defining a professional publication under the rules of the World Science Fiction Society (WSFS), the organization responsible for the Hugos. WSFS defines a professional publication as one that has an average print run of 10,000 copies. The primary definition of a semiprozine is that it doesn't qualify as a professional publication. (Yes, there are other criteria, but if I start listing them, it will get confusing.)

For another, there is the reason the category exists. According to the stories that I have heard, the category was created because some people were tired of LOCUS totally dominating the Best Fanzine category every year. So, the Semiprozine category was created, and now we have LOCUS completely dominating the new category every year. This does not constitute much of an improvement to me.

And when I say that LOCUS completely dominates the Best Semiprozine category, I am not exaggerating. The category was first presented in 1984. Since then, LOCUS has won the Hugo in this category all but three times. (SCIENCE FICTION CHRONICLE won twice; INTERZONE won once.) From where I stand, it seems that the Best Semiprozine category exists solely to give LOCUS another Hugo every year. The category is moribund, or worse, and should probably be eliminated.

Not all of the categories are in need of an overhaul. The four fiction categories -- Best Novel, Best Novella, Best Novelette, and Best Short Story -- all seem to be doing well. There are some writers that regularly appear on the ballot, but I don't think there is anyone who wins all of the time. I don't think there is any writer who gets nominated just on the basis of his/her name.

It's a little hard to tell on the two Best Dramatic Presentation categories. It has only been a couple of years since THE SPLIT. (That was when the single category for Best Dramatic Presentation was split into Long Form and Short Form. This was accomplished only after a great deal of discussion, debate, and prodding of more than a few stick-in-the-mud SMOFs.)

The Best Professional Editor is the only other category that I see as having been dominated by one person. And I would have to say that Gardner Dozois has never completely dominated the category. He may have won regularly, but other nominees managed to win the Hugo on a somewhat regular basis. And since Dozois left ASIMOV'S last year, it will be interesting to see who will win in this category for the next three or four years. (The cynic in me suspects that, unfortunately, he may have a lock on the award this year just because some of the voters, maybe even most of the voters, may decide to send him out with one final Hugo. He may be a great editor, but that is not a good reason to vote him the Hugo this year.)

That may be one of the problems with the Hugos -- from my personal point of view, of course. Nominating and voting on the Hugos is open to every member of each year's Worldcon. Only a small number of those who can vote actually do vote -- I don't have precise numbers, but I think it's somewhere around 10 percent.

Part of the reason for the low number of voters is that the WSFS constitution permits the final voting to take place ONLY in advance of the administering Worldcon, and the voting deadline is usually at least a month before the Worldcon begins. There is just one little problem -- most of the people eligible to vote may not be thinking much about the Worldcon that far ahead. If they are giving the Worldcon some thought, it's more likely that they are thinking about things such as travel and room arrangements. Having the voting done ONLY in advance of the Worldcon also excludes those who decide to join at the convention.

The vote for site selection is conducted at the Worldcon; in fact, most of the site selection votes are cast at the Worldcon. Why not hold Hugo voting at the Worldcon as well? Computer software is used to count the votes; it shouldn't be any more difficult to count the additional ballots, particularly if the votes were cast directly into the computer. If, for instance, the Hugo ceremony is held on Sunday night of the Worldcon, have the voting through Saturday afternoon. That should give the administrators enough time to conduct the votes, and prepare the envelopes for the ceremony.

One argument I have heard to the above is that, since Worldcons are usually held over Labor Day weekend, it would cost more to have the trophies engraved with the winners' names. My counter-argument would be, do they have to be engraved right then and there? I once heard that at the Academy Awards ceremony, the winners are presented Oscars that are blank. After the requisite publicity photos, AMPAS takes back the trophies, and some time later, the trophies are shipped to the winners' homes, engraved with their names, and in what categories they won. WSFS could do the same with the Hugos.

There are advantages to this option. First, since the trophies aren't engraved before the ceremony, there is less of a chance that a winner will be inadvertently revealed before the proper time. Second, if the trophies are shipped to the winners after the Worldcon, that is one less thing that the winners will have to worry about getting home. They also wouldn't have to worry about whether or not it would get home undamaged. Third, the winners don't have to worry about going through airport security with their Hugos. After all, the design of the Hugo Award is based on the archetypal science fiction rocketship, and it is cast out of metal (and usually chrome-plated). I suspect that most airport security screeners would start to get a little nervous if that were to show up on a security scan.

I suppose that, more than anything else, what really needs to be changed is the attitude of a number of SMOFs. For a group devoted to a literary genre that looks to the future, some of us can be amazingly mired in tradition. Something is done a certain way because it has ALWAYS been done that way. That isn't a bad thing if it is the best way of doing something, but if there is another way of doing something that is possibly better, the possibility should at least be investigated.

There is one slight problem with making any large-scale changes to the Hugos. The problem is that it would require amending the WSFS constitution, and that is (at least) a two-year process. If an amendment is passed when it is first introduced, it still has to be ratified at the following year's Worldcon. On the one hand, it does prevent changes from being rammed through by packing the WSFS Business Meeting at any one Worldcon. On the other hand, it can make changes difficult to accomplish. The split in the Dramatic Presentation categories took several years to achieve.

Maybe what needs to be changed, at least at first, is some method to allow a change on a temporary basis. Some way to show that there is a better way of doing things, and to show a reason for making those changes permanent.


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ENTRY #2
0503.14


Last year, I was ecstatic when I learned that Amazing Stories was being relaunched after an inactive period of three or four years. I have never been a regular reader of the magazine, but it was nice to know that the world's first SF magazine was coming back. I was just as disappointed when, a little over a month ago, I learned that Amazing was going on hiatus for an indefinite period, after only six issues since the relaunch.

Since then, I've seen a few observations from other SF fans regarding Amazing's new format, and why it may have gone inactive again so quickly. And that started me thinking --- if I had the chance to launch a science fiction magazine of my own, what would it look like?

Yes, I'm reasonably certain that just about every SF fan has his or her idea of what the perfect SF magazine should be. I thought it would be fun to play with the idea, even if I never had the chance to bring it to reality.

Right away, I ran into a bit of a snag. What would I call this magazine? During the 1930s through the 1950s, there were scores of SF magazines. All of them had wonderfully evocative titles -- Amazing Stories, Astounding Science Fiction, Planet Stories, Galaxy, and Worlds Of If, just to name a few. Of magazines currently being published, I think my favorite title is that of an Australian magazine called Andromeda Spaceways Inflight Magazine. Unfortunately, I haven't had a chance to see an issue yet. The reviews I've read have been quite complimentary, and make me want to read at least one issue.

I think I want my own magazine to have a simpler title. I think I like Cosmos. It's a title that has been used twice before, by two different publishers. The first time was in 1953-54, the second in 1977-78. Both incarnations lasted only four issues. I've never seen the 1950s version. I do have the 1970s version, thanks to Ebay. From what I have seen of the second incarnation's four issues, if the publishers' luck with distribution had been just a little better, it might still be on the stands today. (And I would have to think of another title for this little fantasy.) For the moment, let's call it Cosmos3, just to distinguish it from its predecessors.

Okay, so I have at least a working title. (That should suffice; after all, this is an exercise in fantasizing.) What format do I want it to be? Should it be bedsheet size (8.5 x 11 inches, if you're unfamiliar with the term), or should it be the smaller digest size?

Hmmm . . . let's go with digest. One advantage I've noticed with digest-size magazines is that because of their smaller size, they are almost always put on the front shelves of the magazine stands. Much more likely to be noticed that way.

Then there is the matter of content -- you know, the stories that will be published by this magazine. You're not likely to see wizards or unicorns in Analog; that magazine is science fiction, and the stronger the emphasis on the science, the better. By the same token, you probably won't see genetic engineering or nanotechnology in Realms Of Fantasy. Somewhere in between is The Magazine Of Fantasy & Science Fiction (or as it's more commonly known, F&SF), where a reader could easily find all of the above in one issue -- though probably not all in the same story.

For Cosmos3, I would want to publish both SF and fantasy. I remember years ago hearing someone suggest that SF actually stood for "Somehow, it Fits." It may be a little glib, but it's also a quick description of what I would want to see in the magazine.

I don't want to publish only new stories, though. I also want Cosmos3 to reprint at least one story an issue. The reprint policy would be "The Good, The Bad, And The Ugly." I want to reprint stories that represent all of the genre's past, from classics such as "Who Goes There?" to stories that really do feature a Bug-Eyed Monster and a girl in a brass bra. If I'm publishing a new story by Harlan Ellison, I might put it side-by-side with "Glowworm," his first published story. I want to bring back futures past, and hope that they bring more chuckles than groans to the readers.

I also want Cosmos3 to have some non-fiction content. Besides an editorial and the usual lettercol, I want at least one other regular column. One of the first things I always read in Asimov's is Robert Silverberg's column, and I always enjoyed David Gerrold's columns in Starlog. I would want a columnist who was at least as freewheeling as those two. There would also be the occasional guest column.

Cosmos3 would have a review column. Not a book review column, or a game review column, or a movie review column; just a review column. It would review all of those and more, but there would be no set schedule to what gets reviewed. Each issue would review a variety of things, leaving the specifics as a surprise for the reader.

All right, my idea for what I would like to see in a science fiction magazine is a little sketchy. This is the first time I've put the idea down in print. I might come back to this idea from time to time, to see if I can refine it more.


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ENTRY #1
0502.15


As I was setting up this page, one thought kept going through my mind. What am I going to write in the first entry? Not too unusual for me. The question of what and how to start is a frequent one for me. Once I get started, I don’t have that much difficulty putting my thoughts down in print. But not when I’m looking at that blank screen or blank sheet of paper. Even if I know the what of what I am writing, the how is the stumbling block.

The thought has been running through my mind for a few days, usually in the background. Something else has been running through my mind as well -- Buck Rogers. The TV series from the early 1980s, to be precise. I suspect that most people don’t realize that the theme music to the series has lyrics. The series pilot was originally released theatrically, and the theme with lyrics ran over the opening credits. It was also on the soundtrack album, which I have had for years.

"Far beyond this world I've known,
Far beyond my time,
What am I? Who am I? What will I be?
Where am I going? And what will I see?
Searching my mind for some truth to reveal;
What thoughts are fantasy? What memories real?"

I don't even know why I thought of the song (I think the title is "Suspension."). It has been years since I listened to the soundtrack. It does seem to echo my thoughts. It might even be a more accurate reflection than I would care to admit.

"Long before this life of mine,
Long before this time.
What was there? Who cared to make it begin?
Is it forever, or will it all end?
Searching my past for the things that I've seen;
Is it my life, or just something I dreamed?"

Maybe I'm reading too much into this. But the song has dancing around that edge between my conscious and subconscious mind for several days. It isn't one of those times when a particular memory surfaces for a brief moment, then returns to the shadowy corners of my mind. It seems to want to tell me something, but I have no idea what it wants to tell me.

"Far beyond this world I've known,
Far beyond my time,
What kind of world am I going to find?
Will it be real, or just all in my mind?
What am I, who am I, what will I be?
Where am I going, and what will I see?"

Of course, the song did get the writing process jump-started. That may have been the entire reason it made its way from the dark recesses of my memory. If that was the case, it did the job.


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