I May Not Know Art.....

One of the reasons I started reading science fiction was the cover art.

I loved it, back in the seventies, when the spaceships were unusual shapes and bright colours against dramatic spacescapes. Chris Foss, who I was fortunate enough to meet a couple of years ago, soon became a favourite cover artist. I don't recall if I was aware of who he was, but I could easily recognise his work. Then there were other, more metaphoric designs for SF books. Some I loved, others I merely appreciated. Photographed covers have aged the most. Even back then photos of model aliens or men in silver suits look dated. I seem to recall a photographed Stainless Steel Rat cover that was terrible.

So for me it was illustration, preferable paintings. Unfortunately for me, they seem to have died off as the primary source of cover art.
Recently I had a conversation with a writer who told me about the economics involved. It's cheaper to buy and crop stock artwork than commission new. It's even cheaper to buy digital manipulated pictures than buy paintings. And with the unrelenting tsunami of self published mediocrity, the standard of cover art has fallen even further.

I know graphic artists who are in competition with anyone who has access to Photoshop, regardless of the quality. New writers self publishing a story manipulate a couple of pictures, throw on text and away they go.

Here's a clue. Many of these look cheap and nasty and entice no one.

I really miss those painted covers. They had a quality missing in the digital age. I understand a painting is not going to be affordable, but at the very least hire someone trained in design to direct the art on the cover.

Me? Well, you'll find me over here gazing at my Asimov's and Harrison's and dreaming of yellow and black checked starships against enormous nebulae.

Reading Makes Writing.

The one piece of advice I continually see from professional writers is the need to read as much as possible. This has never really been an issue for me as I've always been a voracious reader.

As a child I sent many hours in the school library, both hunting for books and reading them - sometimes entire YA novels in my lunch break. I was well known by the library staff and they were very supportive. It was there I saw my first SF books. I loved the look of those Asimov novels with his name emblazoned across the top in block letters over the amazing artwork by Chris Foss. And the fact you could lay the books side by side to make an even bigger picture was a bonus.

The name ASIMOV was rather exotic sounding, and the science part of Science Fiction scared me a little. I asked a friend whether he'd read any Asimov, and once he'd told me he had I asked him whether it was able to be read by non-scientists.

And so I borrowed 'Foundation', and loved it. Within a few weeks I'd started buying SF novels from markets and used bookstores, originally based on the cover art. 'The Tower of Glass' by Robert Silverberg was next, followed by a Philip K. Dick, and so on. It wasn't long before I'd built up a knowledge of the authors I liked, and those I didn't 'get'. It took me many years and several attempts to get past the first hundred pages of Frank Herbert's Dune, for example. 

I still regularly read Bob Shaw, John Brunner, Michael G. Coney, Roger Zelazny, Robert Sheckley, Frederik Pohl, Poul Anderson and A. E. van Vogt as well as the old masters mentioned above.

My tastes have broadened. I read a lot of fantasy during the 80s and early 90s, something I haven't done for a long time. And for some reason I mostly read female authors now. I also read a lot of Australian small press - something I didn't even know existed back then.

Which reminds me. I need to catch up on my Analogs, Asimovs and F&SFs. I'm a few months behind. It's time to take a break from the non-fiction I'm currently reading.

Just Like A Good Casserole.

Last week someone asked me about my influences. I know there are certain writers whose work has consciously influenced me, but there are many more who must sit in the deeper recesses of my mind. But just for interest I thought I'd list a few whose writings have meant something to me along the way. I  haven't read many of them for years. Sometimes it's best not to go back.

Enid Blyton. You might laugh at this one, but as a young child I was hooked on the Famous Five adventures and The Faraway Tree. None of her other writings worked for me, but the sheer adventure and mystery of the five, plus the darker fantastical elements of the tree resonated within me.

Capt. W.E. Johns. I don't know how young I was when I first encountered Biggles, but I know I read his stories for years. Great characters and exciting adventures in wonderfully exotic settings. There's even a biography of Biggles, as though he was a real pilot.

John F.C. Westerman.  Until a few years ago, I'd only ever read one book by him. My grandfather gave me Bringing Down The Air Pirates. A SF novel, although the adventure side was similar to Biggles. I finally re-read it a year or two ago, and still enjoyed it. I discovered there was a sequel. It wasn't as good.

Ed McBain. The pen name of Evan Hunter. My uncle introduced me to the 87th Precinct series when I was a teen. I loved them. Excellent police procedurals. And characters that I recall connecting with.

Giovanni Guareschi. An Italian writer from the 30s and 40s who wrote wonderful little short stories, almost vignettes, set in a small town in Italy, and highlighting the ongoing battles between the catholic priest and the communist mayor. My father had a couple of Don Camillo books and I devoured them as a young teenager. I've recently introduced his work to a good friend, who absolutely loves it.

Ngaio Marsh. A New Zealand writer who wrote murder mysteries - and for my money they were much better than Agatha Christie. I recently read a biography on this remarkable woman. I might actually delve back into some of these,, when I find time.

Isaac Asimov. The first of the real SF writers I can recall encountering as a teenager. I think it was the Foundation series - and that's not a bad place to start. Perhaps not the best writer, but full of original and intelligent ideas. Plus the 70s Panther editions had those wonderful Chris Foss covers.

Robert Silverberg. The second real SF writer I read. Tower of Glass I think it was. And then I kept buying and reading his work. I love his short fiction also, and in the 80s I was thrilled when I started on the Majipoor series. I met him at Worldcon, told him he'd been a huge influence and shook his hand.

Philip K. Dick. I don't remember when I bought my first PKD book, but I'm pretty sure it was Time Out of Joint. He quickly became my favourite, and I think I own everything by him. And I love introducing him to others.

Jonathan Carroll. Dark weirdness with elements of magic realism. I picked up two of his works in the late 80s. I needed something to read, the covers intrigued me and they were in the discount bin outside a newsagents. I was hooked.

Haruki Murakami. When living in Japan, a friend bought me one of his books as a Christmas present. Shortly after I rushed out and bought everything else that had been translated. Many years later and that friend is now my wife. She has such good taste.

Katherine Mansfield. Another New Zealander who died far too young and left us far too few short stories. And yet every single one is an absolute work of art. I was introduced to her in University, and I read and re-read her works every year or so.

And then, throughout the 70s and 80s, there was a string of SF writers whose work I read over and over and absolutely loved. Perhaps the only reason they're not listed in the main section is that I just happened to pick up Asimov and Silverberg first. But I need to include the works of Michael G. Coney, Christopher Priest, Christopher Stasheff and Douglas Adams. Followed closely by Robert Sheckley, Bob Shaw, Ian Watson, Jack. L Chalker, C.S. Lewis, Julian May, Stephen Donaldson, and....  well, there are just too many. And I know tomorrow I'll kick myself for leaving someone off the list. Somewhere along the way all these writers, and many others, have infused my mind.

Who do you acknowledge?