#science fiction fanzines

[thefugitivesaint]

Alicia Austin, ''Science Fiction Review'', #39, Aug. 1970 Source

[remnantglow]

fun discovery from today's internet rabbit hole:

the first lesbian magazine published in the US, Vice Versa (1947-48), was entirely hand-typed by one Edythe Eyde (better known by her pen name Lisa Ben - yes, that IS an anagram for lesbian). she worked as a secretary with a ton of spare time on her hands, and her boss would tell her he didn't care what she was doing so long as she "looked busy"... so she decided to use her free time to type out copies of a home-made periodical for lesbians, writing most of the content - editorials, book/film reviews, poetry, short stories, and more - herself!

overall, the magazine ran for 9 issues, 16 hand-typed copies of which lisa would mail to friends (well, until one of them advised her she could be arrested for sending "obscene" materials) and distribute at lesbian bars :)

[spirk-trek]

Contact Fanzine | Pat Stall, 1977

[sturionic]

In the course of spiralling down an internet rabbit hole today, I found a truly excellent essay about the trials and tribulations of fandom: How To BNF Without Tears, by Walter A. Willis

If you are familiar with the term BNF (Big-Name Fan), you may have heard it in the context of early-aughts fandoms, or some configuration of superwholock. But this article is from 1954!

Please enjoy these excerpts:

Very well, let's consider a day in the life of this wretched Neofan. Brighteyed, the little fellow wakes early, listening for the tread of the postman. His ears are so sensitive to this faint sound that he will leap out of bed, every nerve quivering, when the man is a hundred yards away ….. whereas before he became a fan a whole battery of alarm clocks barely fluttered an eyelid.

It's me, I'm the wretched little fellow refreshing my AO3 inbox, nerves a-quivering

Consider now a day in the life of the BNF. He too is driven from pillow to post, but since he was up to two o'clock in the morning finishing an article he had promised for ten days ago, the postman has to knock twice to waken him. He staggers down the stairs, observing with a sinking feeling that the porch is covered with a layer of various sized envelopes[....]Some of the letters are from his friends, and he puts those in his pocket to be enjoyed later. Some are from self-appointed enemies, and he puts those aside until he feels stronger. The rest are from Neofen. Some of them want subscriptions to his fanzine. Some want information. Some want material for their fanzine. Nearly all of them are rude.

1954 equivalent of "RIP your inbox"

Now, on the way the BNF handles this mail depends whether he shall stay in fandom or retire suffering from chronic disenchantment like so many others[...]So I am going to suggest some rules which you might consider following when you become a BNF. (All that is necessary to become a BNF is to maintain a reasonably energetic standard of fanactivity for approximately two years.)

And then our friend Walter goes on to advise BNFs to "comment on as many first issues [of fanzines] as you can, and always find something to praise," "Always be polite and kind to Neofans," and to take the piss out of yourself: "Humourous attacks on you should be encouraged -- they add to the interest of fandom, rank as egoboo, and might give you something to write about." (Walter also warns on the dangers of attending conventions, and advises that you wear a false beard to maintain anonymity.)

Of course, I had to know: what fandom were these guys in?

So I did a little digging. Walter mentions a "Ken Potter" in his letter. Turns out Ken Potter ran multiple science fiction fanzines through the 1950's and 60's, including Brennschluss, Triumph and Scientifiction.

A scan of Brenschluss, containing such gems as "tho I did once kiss a girl" and "Isn't Fandom romantic!"

Additional glossary for some terms used in Walter's essay:

"Egoboo": A colloquial expression for the pleasure received from public recognition of voluntary work. Originated in science fiction fandom as early as 1947

"Hectoed" fanzine: A method of copying text and illustrations that fell out of fashion after the 1940's. It involves involves making a bed of gelatin, transferring a special carbon ink to the gelatin and then laying on and picking up pieces of paper.

"Faned": Slang for "fan editor," aka the editor of a fandom publication, usually a zine.

[science70]

Science Fiction Review magazine #37, April 1970.

Cover art: Jim McLeod

[incongruence-osaf]

The Incongruence of Stars and Flowers PART ONE - Chapter One

1948

Space Colony ARK, Mobius’s Orbit

The brilliance of white heavenly fire gradually disappears behind the blue and green marble of planet Mobius. As the tenth dusk prepares room for pockets and fields of stars to shine in the never-ending darkness, a stout elderly scientist sits on a swivel chair in the frame of one of Space Colony ARK’s tall laboratory windows. He quietly observes the familiar changes of the station’s daily orbit while absentmindedly twiddling his long gray mustache. The dissipating halo of sunlight winks goodbye to Professor Gerald Robotnik, the reflection no longer glinting in the clean lenses of his round glasses. 

The beige and gray surfaces of the lab’s machinery will be darkened by shadows once more for another ninety minutes. He eases out of his focused state and becomes aware of just how much time has passed when the glaring glow of the computer screen in front of him can no longer be ignored behind the tint in his glasses. Stress from transferring complex genetic data charts to colleagues, as well as impatiently checking for emailed test results from the Pediatric Endocrinology department, had finally caught up to him. More testing had been determined necessary by his granddaughter’s on-site care team within the last week. Her conditions were changing in curious ways, creating more puzzles to solve inside the complex enigma of her deteriorating brain and body, the progression of which is slowed down by the low gravity in space. The scientist rubs his wrinkled face and stands up to stretch his creaking joints in his now cold and unlively workspace. 

A new light source from the adjacent hallway illuminates a path toward the weary man after a blonde-haired child opens the door. A shiny keycard dangles from a lanyard around her neck. His granddaughter, Maria Robotnik, is wearing a baggy blue hoodie over a hospital gown and sleepily saunters past the tables of equipment to join him.

 

For a few moments, the only sounds interrupting the silence are the grippy steps of her socks, the ambient hum of computer beeps and fans, and their relaxed breathing syncing as she wordlessly leans into his plump embrace. Her lean feels heavier and unsteady today, the poor girl, while she buries her face into his wrinkled white lab coat. Gerald pecks the top of Maria’s head that’s decorated with a daisy-patterned blue headband. Her hair is thin and rather yellowish in tone. It used to have a healthy golden luster before her body started to attack itself. The memory of the sun with its summery hues filtered through the barrier of Mobius’s atmosphere flits through his mind.

“Táborák.” Gerald quietly muses to himself.

Maria furrows her brow against the pen pocket on his chest.

“What's that Grandpa?”

He pulls away slightly but keeps a gentle arm around her shoulders as a guide while he walks them along the wall of windows. “It’s a Slovak word I learned when I was a young boy. It means ‘campfire’. Like in the Western film we watched yesterday after your tests, when the cowboys were cooking meat and laughing over the fire pit. You might have been too young to remember, but we had several family campfires with your parents before you and I moved to the ARK.”

The preteen girl squints her eyes for a moment before speaking, taking interest in the newly visible specks of stars. “...I remember a little bit. You had your funny sweater on that made Dad laugh. I was cold, but my parents warmed me up in their laps. I was really small but the sky seemed so big and pretty,” she recounts, the corners of her eyes creasing upwards.

“I’m glad that fascination sprouted in you since you were a little tot,” the elder wistfully smiles down at her, now holding the forgotten cup of coffee he obtained from the nearest wall of cabinets. “Say, there’s an almost imperceptible cluster of stars located just past the shuttle bay, through the corner of this window here. Their colors would look very much like a campfire if we were to view them through a telescope. Do you remember what kind of stars those are?”

Maria presses her floppy blue sleeves against the glass to follow where his finger points. “Hmmm…those could be spectral type K, or M, such as red dwarf stars. Those live the longest and are the coolest…just like Shadow is.” Maria snickers with a proud grin.

 Gerald wheezes, coughing up the small sip of cold coffee he just inhaled, “Haha! Very good Maria! You are correct on both accounts.” His chuckles trail off as he almost puts his mug into the wrong microwave, closing the door of the one used to dry lab materials and instead opening the household microwave beside it. Its uncentered turntable clicks in a sporadic pattern compared to the rhythmic whirring of the machines and computers in the wide room. Maria looks lost in thought and her face droops while staring at the dark liquid turning round and round.

“Grandpa?”

“Yes, słoneczko?” 

“Are the stars really as pretty as I think I remember? From Mobius, I mean? We spin so much that I get the constellations mixed up and forget where they are. I forget where we are, and what they looked like. They’re cool, but…” she huffs in frustration. Gerald can see that Maria’s eyes have become glossier in the dim glow of the microwave at her eye level before it shuts off. He ignores the now heated coffee and carefully leans down to put comforting palms onto her shoulders.

“They’re absolutely as beautiful as you remember, if not more. When I was a student in Poland, I’d gather around campfires way too big for my mother’s liking. I'd talk about the meaning of life with fellow stargazers, friends who are no longer alive. When the same stars that we see so frequently start to peek out in the darkness of the Mobius sky, especially in the country where no city lights can reach…it’s the closest I’ve gotten to feeling a higher power. Sometimes there’s so many that it looks like a living painting, glittering all together on a more focused canvas than the infinite darkness we see in orbit. The stars keep company and comfort in such a way that we often take for granted here aboard the ARK.”

Maria blinks the teariness out of her eyes and settles her gaze on the vacuum of space only kept separate by the thickly reinforced glass. Gerald does his best to make sure her life on the ARK is holistically nourishing. But he knows that what the adults sometimes consider to be an escape from an imperfect world full of multitudes of harm, a growing utopia…to Maria, it’s cold isolation during her most formative years. Gerald resolves that Maria will be able to live on Mobius again, healthy and safe. That she will see with her own eyes the wonders of the world outside of books and pictures. It doesn’t matter that he’s past his prime; he will dedicate the rest of his days to make sure that her dreams become reality.

“Let’s add making a campfire to the ‘bucket list’. When we go to Mobius, we’ll find a quiet place where pesky city lights won’t obstruct the view of the true night sky. The flames and the stars will shine on the new memories all of us will make together. You, Shadow, and me.” Gerald reassures her warmly. 

Maria rubs her eyes with her sleeves and clings to her grandfather for another hug. He feels and hears her stomach gurgle through her oversized clothes.

“Sounds about time for a snack. Want to come with me to the cafeteria? I need to give my old eyes a break. And here, use my cane.” Arm in arm, the pair slowly exit into the hallway, leaving behind the flickering red, blue, green, and white buttons of the machines blinking like eyes in the pitch-black laboratory.

CHAPTER TWO HERE

[fanzines]

'Gravity Loop ᎠᏗᎾᏌᏁᏍᎩ ᎫᏓᎸᏗ' is a a lo-fi, speculative fiction anthology organised by Lichen Euchella and Ocean ET. Buy a print copy here. Or a PDF version here. 44 pages. Ships internationally.

Photo by @shrineambience.

[pradaldi]

ZOM n°2 is almost finished, it will be a little pamphlet for a used spaceship dealership. Subscribe to my Zine Of the Month Patreon tier to get it on your mailbox !

[kekwcomics]

THRUST Science Fiction Vol. 3 #1 (1974)

Cover photo: Ted Manekin

Mike & Carol Resnik as the Ice Demon and White Sybil.

[alltheverses]

Season 3 of Star Trek: The Original Series!

Time travel back 55 years to watch it air for the first time. With the original effects, no cuts, and time-period accurate commercials!

Join in listening to zines and articles being read aloud before episodes and tune in to listening parties for the "newest" records from cast members.

Returning fans and newcomers are all welcome, no previous knowledge required.

Check out reviews of the episodes on galacticjourney.org or see other articles from time traveling correspondents.

Join the discord here to watch! Episodes are aired on Wednesdays, 5pm Pacific/8pm Eastern and 8pm Pacific/ 11pm Eastern.

The Galactic Journey website has reviews, radio, and updated discord link.

http://galacticjourney.org/

Edit: Episodes now air on Thursdays.

[scribefindegil]

I don't have a plot yet but I think it would be very funny to write a fic where I somehow zap the Lower Decks crew to Real-Life Riverside Iowa.

[thefugitivesaint]

Cora Lee Healy, ''Thrust'', #20, Summer 1984 Source

[spaceintruderdetector]

Includes interview with Stuart Argabright of Black Rain, an essay by KC Collins on Cyberpunk and Industrial Music and a retrospective of Charlie Athanas' cyberpunk works over the years. Features  new and old Cyberpunk works in film, books and music. 

ENTER 2 : Stark Produkt : Free Download, Borrow, and Streaming : Internet Archive

[spirk-trek]

As I Do Thee Fanzine | Deeb, 1989

[ot3]

another rounds of 'professionally bound zines are exploitative and fundamentally not zines'

[texasthrillbilly]

Oh, the pain, the pain!