And the Fanzines They Were Free
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| Title: | And the Fanzines They Were Free |
| Creator: | Richard B. Schultz |
| Date(s): | August 1976 |
| Medium: | |
| Fandom: | science fiction |
| Topic: | |
| External Links: | |
| Click here for related articles on Fanlore. | |
And the Fanzines They Were Free is a 1976 essay by Richard B. Schultz.
It was printed in Sol Plus #3.
Some Topics Discussed
- the history of science fiction and science fiction fanzines
- eofandom
- the first fanzine, "The Planet"
- the generally terrible quality of the writing in these early zines: "usually just plain horrible, though all the fans told themselves that this was The Right Way to Become A Professional Writer of Science Fiction."
- the effect of the Depression in the 30's on fandom and fanzines
- much detailed, and charming descriptions, of creating a fanzine
- the ostracism of science fiction fans in society
- fanzines as social currency, as vital communication
- pecking order among fans
- fandom is for friends and communication, not profit
Excerpts
A while ago, a few Star Trek fans marvelled at the habits and behavioral patterns of science fiction fandom publishers and editors, and at many of their attitudes in general (quite apart from the snobbery that some few Scientifiction [stf] fans indulge in about ST Fandom). Star Trek is quite a distinct group and owes science fiction-dom, no apologies for its existence, of course, but perhaps a little history lesson might help explain a few things to the large mass of ST fans who have never even been in contact with that semi-mysterious body known as SF Fandom...
It started like this...
In the Beginning . .. There was Eofandom. Back in the primordial slime of the twenties, there existed a small-scale hard science enthusiast named Hugo Gernsback, who was forever trying to make his fortune by publishing and backing Science as the universal panacea for all our ills. He put together a magazine called "AMAZING Stories". As part of his campaign to boost his ideals and magazines (he soon followed "AMAZING" with a few more pulp mags), he started the Science Fiction League and gave us, the world, not only the term Scientifiction but, more importantly, science fiction fandom.
But soon a few wrote about other things and were well accepted by Fandom. Stfdom acquired, by slow osmosis, a sort of broadening of their interests within the group, due in no small part, to the efforts of a few literate and good-humoured fans who quietly upgraded the general level of the group and allowed us all to laugh at our- selves on occasion and not take fandom as too much of an evangelical group. But from the very beginning, fandom had already acquired at least one characteristic over which some ST fans have marvelled.
To outsiders, of course, fans gave out the rationale that fan-pubbing was entirely a "hobby". One, after all, published because it was an enjoyable hobby; one also met some very interesting people there. Outsiders could understand hobbies and Pen-Pals ... that was just barely within their skein...the doctrine of Interlocking Mailboxes
would have completely thrown them and meant some rejection and scorn from Outsiders onto STfans. (Interlocking Mailboxes means that tight-knit world wherein most everyone is aware of each other in the Circuit, reads many of the same fanzines, and everyone gossips about everyone else's ideas and words and sometimes personality...it's like a loose, wide-spread family.)
Also, of course, you could tell Them (the Outsiders) that if you practice enough with this goofy stuff, you might be able to Write Professionally And Make Money As An Author. They wouldn't understand bothering with anything if there wasn't a profit motive involved.
Indeed, people nowadays just don't seem to realize how terribly difficult it was to be a "different" individual back then ... social ostracism was not just a concept written in a high school testbook, but something that was practiced all the time on anyone who was in the least bit Different or Kinky or Sinful or Eccentric or Whatever.
You then proceeded to send a [hectographed] copy to each contributor. After all, you were usually starved for usable material and had to keep the contributors happy.
You traded with other publishers, because you couldn't afford to be paying the ten to fifteen cents that they wanted for their publishing efforts. And you sent copies off to a few Big Names in the hope they would contribute, or at least mention you kindly in their next letter to a Big Name Pro or Fan and thus spread the word around that you were worth reading (getting eye strain for). But mostly you traded, usually all of yours for all of his. And if one of you wound up getting a tithe of the page count that the other one got, no one really worried about it. The purpose was not to make money or to keep "score" of who was ahead. The purpose, for all of the rationalizing with the Outsiders, was Communication. Real, solid, barriers down Communication.
You were desperate for [communication with other fans]. You'd even spend money to obtain it. In an era like today, it is difficult to grasp it, but anything remotely associated with science fiction was a really far-out world. It was, literally, socially condemned. In small communities, it could result in real physical difficulty. Even in urban areas, it was not unknown for priests and pastors to mention the waywardness and frivolousness of some erring communicant. You could not hold some jobs in small towns because of a known interest in stf. Even graduating from High School could be made difficult and the local girls didn't want to date a Weirdo (not that most fans had much social life anyways ... shyness was practically a group disease)...
Literally, many buyers of sci-fi magazines tore the covers off the mags to hide what they were reading from the eyes of casual neighbors. (And many pulp magazine readers had similar problems even in Mystery mags and general Adventure types.) Under conditions like that, communication of any sort, even at a distance, with similar minds was not a luxury, but a dire psychological necessity.
Also, many fans literally did not have any money. I don't mean money enough to buy electro-stencils or sub for three years to "YANDRO" or fly to attend the next MidWestCon in Cincinnati. I mean not enough money to pay the cover price for an "ASTOUNDING" (20¢) or "Thrilling Wonder" (15¢). Or even a spare nickel for a grubby hectographed fanzine.
It was no wonder that a certain sense of brotherhood developed and this brotherhood became one of the most lasting and appealing things about stfdom. It meant not only was your mind and body welcome, it also meant that no one in the Brotherhood would be denied access to the food, the channels of communication, of fandom. Somehow, someway, you could get That Fanzine For Free.
Letterhacking became a fine art in science fiction fandom and most fanzines would allow free copies, at least, to the published letterhacks; some fanzines to anyone who would comment at all. It was ego massage maybe, but vital. In point of fact, the letter columns sometimes became the most vital, cogent and entertaining parts of the magazine. Even today, many old fanzines are remembered not for their reviews or thoughts on the possibilities of vacuum tubes or amateur fiction, but for the glow imparted by the onrush of bright young minds in their finest days.
For the key to fandom became not your Professional Status, but your status within the group in fandom. Under this sort of impetus, it was logical that some aspects would develop which some ST fans find deplorable. Namely, the tendency to write more and more about yourself, about what you did, what you thought, what your plans were; your dreams, your pains, your whole world, in short. It was not just an ego trip, but a wide-open interflow of ideas, a vast sea of ideas and people and insights to produce and absorb in turn.
For fandom quickly no longer needs stf as a reason to stay together as a group on its own legs. It followed all the sociological parameters for a viable sub-group and it has continued to thrive and grow by itself ever since then. It produces new members (neo-fans), discards oldmembers and waste (going gafia, going [fafia]], etc.), ingests (new ideas and reality as a food for the mind and personality), and even produces wastes as a by-product (incomplete and inconsistent ideas, bad writing, etc'.) to its prime function of life ... its communications, i.e. Fanzines, letters, conventions, club meetings, etc., etc.
There are serious groups with their endless dissertations of present and past science fiction and fantasy with members occasionally spinning off to do raw stf stories for their own or someone else's fanzine ... and even turning pro, like Harlan Ellison did. There are zines on Edgar Rice Burroughs, zines on Tolkien, zines on medieval costumery, zines on imaginary worlds created out of whole cloth (one was about the wars, dynastic struggles and loves in a world which was actually a 400-mile-long spaceship making the Long Trip at sublight speeds to the Stars).
As the numbers of hard-core and casually reading science fiction fans has multiplied, so has the stigma disappeared, and society itself has made "differentness" less of a problem. The sub-groups have proliferated as well . Prosperity has brought with it a whole new world of equipment (and their problems as well) to publishing fanzines.
From ditto and hecto, now we use electric mimeo, electro-stencilling, lithograph occasionally and even offset. As costs and postage rose, the quality of the publications and their contributors rose geometrically. But the customs were already established and each new neo-fan was made welcome in a world where some beginners could at least, sometimes, obtain some copies...for nothing. They contributed and they became friends; they might even become Big Name Fans. There could always be a rationale...but they could get fanzines for nothing.
For Fandom exists not to make money nor to advance the state of stf writing or stf art. It does not exist to provide a forum whereby the tenacious and lucky few could break into the pro writing field.
It exists primarily so that friends may continue to meet in the comfort and privacy of their own minds and magazines. The important thing is not how much money one loses (it is accepted you will lose money in fandom), but how well art thee with thy kindred friends. Your friends are important; their minds are important; now, whether or not you make a profit off them...
Fandom is not perfect; no growing or living thing can be. In fact, fandom today tries very hard to be in touch with reality. And fen are unhappy if anyone or any group is "turned off" by some of the customs and antics within the group. But it's going to continue being what it is so long as the group is alive and the members continue to need each other.
Fan Comments
Richard was a little too idealistic in his assessment of current fandom, though; SF fans share one other characteristic of subcultures, and that is their cliquishness. [Ed. Note: I've not noticed this cliquishness -- been accepted by one and all at the SF cons I've been to, and I've been to some of the biggest and smallest cons around. - Mary] It's rather difficult to break into' the fandom, even into some of the apas; the more prestigious apas have requirements for membership and long wait lists, up to two years in one case. But I'm glad to see apas mentioned; they seem to be lacking in ST fandom, except for one that I've heard of that once existed, and may still. Anyone know of an existing ST apa? [1]
Richard Schultz has such a fine well-reasoned article, ... I bought and read pro-zines from the 20's on, but never knew about fanzines until a couple of years ago. How much I missed, all those years ... [2]