Hello, Is Anybody Out There?

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Title: Hello, Is Anybody Out There?
Creator: Leslye Lilker
Date(s): 1980
Medium: print
Fandom:
Topic:
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Hello, Is Anybody Out There? is a 1980 essay by Leslye Lilker.

It was printed in Stylus #1.

While the fandom discussed is Star Trek: TOS, this is mainly because that was the focus of the vast majority of media zines at the time, and therefore, this zine's audience.

Introduction

Once upon a time, in a world that seems far, far away, there were LoCs. For a few weeks after the zine's initial mailing, an editor had the joy (or heartbreak) of receiving reader comments... they were the feedback the editor (read 'author') required to judge the quality of his or her publication. Apparently, the LoCers are becoming a breed of readers who are threatened with extinction.

Some Topics Discussed

  • feedback/LoCs are critical for fans and fandom
  • stories have these parts:
    • theme (the brain)
    • plot (the legs)
    • characterization (the blood, guts, and soul)
    • dialogue (the catalyst)
    • background (the five senses)
    • style (the skin)

Excerpts

The decline [of LoCs] has been evident over the past five years. In 1975, I published my first issue of IDIC, sure that I would never sell at least half of the 60 copies, I, with great temerity, had dared to print. Fortunately, it was not so. The run sold out at the first con I attended. With with two weeks I had received approximately 25 LoCs... With their encouragement to continue, I dared to try another story, and a second issue, whole simultaneously reprinting the first. Again came the phenomenon of LoCs, all of which were encouraging; one of the best was two typed pages in length and criticized me (rightly so!) for scene breakdowns, poorly structured plot, absence of descriptions, and ineffective dialogue. (The the character I created, Sahaj, was acceptable. Everyone else stunk.) I had never received a critique of that depth before from anyone, and this was a BNF, a writer whose work I admired, a person who actually had her name on a professionally published book! (No, Jackie, I'm not going to mention you by name.)... And mine was not an isolated case. Other zine editors and writers have also spoken to me of the positive effects LoCs have had on them. So, why have you, the readers, stopped writing them? ... There are several possible reasons for the slowdown: the post office ate your letter; you went pro and don't have time to write; the post office ate your letter; you have your own zine and don't have time to write; the post office ate your letter; you don't know what to say; the post office ate your letter.

Well, I wrote back to the 'unnamed' BNF and requested enlightenment. I believe the letter began, "Dear BNF... Thank you for your comments on IDIC #2. I really appreciate your taking the time to critique the issue.

... Now... What the hell do you mean by 'scene breakdown', 'structural plot flaws'..." etc., etc., etc. The answer came back in the form of a recommended bibliography (another follows at the end of this article) and I started to read and to learn the techniques of the craft to which I had already been committed (and for which, I am certain, I will one day be committed). I began to work at my writing, improving (I think) with each issue. Someday, maybe I'll know enough about my craft to take it up as a full-time career. But even that hazy possibility would not have occurred to me had not fandom encouraged a brand new writer by positive and constructive LoCs. And mine was not an isolated case. Other zine editors and other writers have also spoken to me of the positive effects LoCs have had on them.

So why have you, the readers, stopped writing them?

[Maybe] you don't know what to say. If that is the reason you haven't bothered to comment on a zine or a story you've read, here are a few suggestions, starting with individual works, and progressing to LoCing entire zines, that might help you in the future.

Start your LoC with a description of your own reaction. If you threw the zine against a wall after reading two paragraphs, or if you invested a week's salary in the Kleenex Corporation, or if you had to take a cold shower after you finished the story, tell the author so. Don't be shy if your reaction was negative; it's an honest reaction to the words printed on a piece of paper and not a comment on the author him or herself. If your author is so sensitive that he or she (how I wish someone would come up with a suitable, neuter pronoun!) bursts into tears or becomes violently angry over your statement, it is the author's problem, not yours. If someone weeps over a statement of someone else's reaction, it indicates severe emotional problems on the former person's part, and a lack of maturity that has undoubtedly shown itself in the story. And should the second of the two reactions mentioned be the case,

you may feel secure in the knowledge that your letter has been opened at what(usually) is a safe distance. Your comment, of course, may call down an acid letter in response. If that is the case, toss the response into the nearest round file, forget it, and do not LoC that author again. In a case where you receive a negative reaction to a statement of your own re action to a story, take the hint: the author is not interested in improving the quality of his or her writings.

However, I am not - I repeat - cm not advocating that your entire LoC be your general reaction to a story. Comments in the genre of "I loved it!" or "It made me sick!" are either nice to hear or rotten to hear, but do not help a writer sharpen his or her skills at his or her craft. (Somebody

please come up with a suitable neuter pronoun! Considering the vast numbers of female writers in ST fandom, I will use the pronoun 'she' for all further references. My apologies to the male writers.) There are those in fandom who are not interested in bettering their skills, writing only for 'fun'. Anyone who is aware of the techniques of engaging in this particular form of communication knows that to be a lie. Writing is work - enjoyable work, true, once it is over. But, fortunately, the' writing-for-fun' group is in the minority and therefore is being disregarded for the purposes of this article.

It is a rare occasion when a new writer manages to include all six elements in her first efforts, which is why fandom has been inundated with relationship stories (characterization) or universe building (background), for two random examples. I fault the editors for not helping these new writers complete the towers they've begun with one or two of the building blocks, but at the same time recognize that a person can only teach as much as she knows. And many of our editors are neo-writers themselves.

Now you have a basic understanding of how to critique a story. Oh, yes. It takes time. It takes even more time to critique an entire zine.

Writers cannot write in a vacuum; 'editors' cannot 'edit' there, either. We need constant feedback from our readers, both in praise and in criticism of our works. It used to be that ST fandom was the best school in which to learn to write. Please don't stop writing your LoCs. They're important... You've important... and we need all the teachers we can get.

If all this work in constructing a useful LoC overwhelms you, please write anyway. We'll settle for one simple sentence: "I read your story."

Fan Comments

I am writing in partial response to Leslye Lilker's article in Stylus #1 -- "Hello, Is Anyone Out There?". However, I am doing it from the writer's point of view rather than an editor's.

Like most people in fandom, I greatly appreciate editors and the absolute agony they go through in putting out a zine — the constant headaches of doing rewrites with the stories, trying to match artists with writing styles — or just simply trying to find artists! — dealing with printers and the thousand and one problems that always surface between the initial "idiotic" idea of doing a zine and the finished product. In that vein, I think it is very important for fandom in general to take the trouble to sit down and let that person or persons know what you think of their efforts, be it positive or negative. Constructive criticism is always good but a simple, "I liked it," is better than nothing and a reward for a lot of frustration.

Which brings me to the reason for this letter. Over the past few years I've talked with a number of people who strictly write, who have never published a zine, nor have any intention of doing so. Eventually the conversation turns to feedback received from editors, other writers, fans, etc., and in almost every case the answer is the same — none.

I can only comment from personal experience but with one exception concerning one story, I have never had an editor tell me what sort of a reaction any story of mine has caused. This possibly is an exception in my case because I do not communicate with many people in fandom.

I write for my own satisfaction and if other people enjoy what I write, so much the better. I am delighted to share it. I am also extremely fortunate to have Carol Frisbie who, in my estimation, is the best editor in fandom keeping me on the straight and narrow, so I am usually reasonably satisfied with the finished story.

But I have no idea what the reaction of the readership is to anything I've written because I've never heard from them. Again, in my case I tend to be a visible writer but an invisible person, which could account for a lot of it.

If the more established writers have that problem, and I know that a lot of them do, then what about the writers who are just getting started? The only way any of us can improve is to have someone tell us what they like or don't like about something we've written. Do editors have a duty to let the writers know? Do writers have an obligation to chase the editors to find out if anyone said anything? Should editors print the addresses of writers so that fandom in general can write to an individual if they should feel so inclined? Some writers put their heart and soul and months of agonizing work into a story, it gets published, and that is it. No word, no comment, absolutely no feedback. To some people that can be extremely discouraging.

I don't think we can put that much more of a workload on the editors by expecting them to filter out comments to the individual writers, so that leaves the general fan. That leaves the person who loves Star Trek, who goes to the conventions, who buys zines and devours their contents. It is this element of fandom who should be heard from. Editors, artists and writers are only a very small segment of fandom, and I am sure that every person who opens a zine has a definite idea of what they like or don't like, reasons they love a story or hate a story, reasons why Mary Sue is wonderful (or awful...) and K/S even better (or worse...).

These people should not be shy about writing. You occasionally hear the comment, "I don't know anything about writing. I'm not qualified to say anything." Sure you are! You have your opinion and you should express it. In Trek fandom there are very few who make their living as pro writers. We write because we love it and because we love the people we write about.

Writing is an exchange of ideas. Most of us exchange ideas with the same people all the time. Come on, you thousands of fans — add your ideas. It's the "what-if's" that make a new story. If you don't feel brave enough to tackle it yourself, then share your dream, your fantasy. People won't laugh at you because they probably share that same dream.

I very much doubt if you will find a writer who is unwilling to talk about what they have written. There is a lot of ego involved in most cases, and you might be in for a bit of an argument if your evaluation is negative but, although it is nice to hear, "I loved your story!", that is not necessarily constructive criticism. What did you like specifically? How would you do it differently? Was the characterization right? Would your Kirk or Spock or McCoy do something like that? If you are a neo-fan, don't be afraid to write to or talk with someone whose name you recognize. In many cases you'll find they are just as shy as you are! The great thing about fandom is the common interest we all have. In the six years of my active involvement. I've never had anyone, B.N.F. (Big Name Fan) or little nameless fan ever be anything but open, gracious, and helpful.

All people need encouragement. In fandom, the writer who does not publish is a person who gets left out. It is very difficult for most writers, if not downright impossible, to walk up to somebody else and ask if they liked something they've written. Most are too shy — and too scared of the answer. It is a lot easier to say to someone, "Hey, I read your story, 'Black and Blue' in BLOOD AND GORE #13. I really enjoyed it, but..." It is the "but" that teaches, that makes the writer better.

Think about it. Stylus #1 had an article about how to review a fanzine. Read it -- apply it to the stories as well as the zine in general. Then write! Write to the editor -- and write the writer! The zine editor has his/her address -- send a SASE and get it. Writers won't bite. They may hurl your letter across the room but you'll probably receive a civil reply eventually. In any event, your effort will be appreciated.

There are a lot of writers in fandom. There are a lot of people wondering if anyone out there really cares about what they've written. Please, let them know that you do. [1]

The only answer I could suggest for Leslye Lilker's question about Letters of Comment is that in my limited experience as a zine ed, the letters of comment I get (I don't run a LoC column so the letters are just comments to the editor) are nearly always from new fans. I had the same reaction on reading zines for the first time; I wanted to discuss the stories with someone, preferably the writer, and normally this feeling can only be satisfied by a good long letter of comment to the editor. But after a while the readers become passive. Three reasons for this spring immediately to mind: (a) You get the idea that no one is interested in your opinion (b) you get a ST friend who you discuss the stories with or (c) you have discovered the vast amount of Trek literature and you are too busy reading to write a letter of comment. I think this is the reason that LoCs are becoming so rare; fewer new fans, eager to discuss their reactions to stories with SOMEONE, the editor being the most easily accessible. [2]

I'm grateful for Leslye Lilker's article for some pointers on how to make my comments more effective. I doubt I'll follow any prescribed outline (spontaneity is encouraged by trying to squeeze in some letters between adventures with 'creative' toddlers or spacy cats), but it does give me some touchpoints to guide the old brain along. I do tend to run off at the mouth - or typewriter - but writing a LoC helps me to get things straight in my own head - analysis often making elements of the story stand out better and therefore making the story more enjoyable.[3]

In response to Leslye Lilker's wondering about what has happened to the LoCs: I think it's the editor/publisher's fault for not putting a little line in each zine saying that LoCs are welcome. Being a relative neo (one year), I have never been all that sure that the zine/ writer wanted my two cents. Not that it stopped me; I'm basically a very vocal and forward person. I could compile a book of 'LoCs to BNFs'. But in spite of this, I only four months ago connected my letters and that mysterious 'LoC -- It sounded like something you should wash your clothes in! Something's awry someplace.

Somewhere, there are new fans who are sitting reading zines, thinking, 'Gee, I really like that. I would really like to tell her how I feel about that, but no one would want to hear from me.' And somewhere else, there are writer's thinking either, 'I know there is something wrong with my dialogue but I can't put my finger on it,' or, 'That's the best thing I've ever written. I know it is, but no one else does.'

The producers of zines have to let those neos and even old readers know that letters of comment are welcome and wanted from anyone and everyone. We all need strokes and feedback to let us know how we're progressing and where we're falling down, even, I would venture to say, the BNFs. And let's not forget: When In Rome — the tourists are as confused as hell. I would suspect that the reason writers don't LoC each other is the reluctance to sound 'know-it-all' with your peers. [4]

Its contents were rather what I had expected. After all, the mechanical problems of putting out a zine tend to stay the same, and after attending a certain number of fan panels about editing, one will have heard about most of these problems. However, I would like to respond to the question Leslye Lilker raised about the disappearance of LoC's in recent years.

Whatever pleasure reading I do, I do primarily to escape the world that I am in. I read Trek not only to escape but to see what other people think/feel/dream about fictional people that are more meaningful to me than any number of live people of whom I can think. As a reader I want to know the why of your characterization, plot, dialogue, background and theme. I used to write LoCs thinking that I could establish at least some kind of contact with people who created something meaningful to me. But in the four years that I wrote LoCs, I remember only six or seven responses. Since I tried to write LoCs like those that Lilker wants, that is a lot of time and effort for very little return. Perhaps the writers feel that writing new and better stories is adequate response, but I don't see it that way. If I didn't want contact with the writer. I'd buy pro novels and save myself from reading undeveloped stories and a LOT of money.

I want that contact with the writer and am willing to put up with your development as a writer and even to help you develop by LoCing... if you give me that contact in return. If you won't, why bother to spend my time and effort with LoCs? It would be nice if you would respond on a personal level, talking about Trek or whatever, but I'll settle for one simple sentence: "I read your (LoC)".[5]

Leslye Lilker's article about fan feedback struck an immediately responsive nerve and I - quailing, failing — am at this even before I finished the rest of the issue. First, may I suggest for your consideration the third-person gender neutral "per" from Marge Piercy's Woman on the Edge of Time. As I recall its delineation in the novel, "per" was adopted to deal with just the difficulty you describe - from the first syllable of person. It does not change with use as a subject or object, nor do I recall that it changes with number (or rather, the plural is still they, them, theirs). Play with it. I find that it rolls pleasantly around the lips and tongue.

Like many others, I'm relatively a neo, having sent in my very first check for a zine barely a year ago, although I had read all the pro stuff and remained a constant watcher. What I want to share with you is some of my feelings about this past year of coming into the fan network and my perceptions of the fan world.

One of the most frustrating things for me to cope with is the lack of continuous availability of stories/universes. I have had my order in for "The Weight Collected" for nearly the whole last year. I have read about it, seen pieces of it, and burn to have it entire in my hand... but it drives me crazy when it is summoned up as a reference as state-of-the-art. It only enhances my feelings that I will never catch up, never be a part of the "real world" of fandom. The same has been true coming in on the tail-end of series (...Sahaj, for instance, or Diamonds and Rust). It seems ultimately pointless to write when the author has terminated the project, or at least is taking a serious gafiation. It is also hard to write when you have only the last, for which the first was made, to misquote Browning. The opportunity to appreciate the growth of the author, the characters, the concept is lacking. Without the beginning, the best I can offer is, "Gee, what a nice story, gee..." (I've READ real nice things about the previous work, but I'll never read the previous work, unless I want to enter the cut-purse world of the auctions, is the rest of this unsent LoC.)

... In the beginning glow of last year, the only LoC I could have written would have been on the order of, "how wonderful to have found you, how did you get the courage to write this, don't other people think you are strange?" There is nothing in my background to compare fanac with, and so it has taken me much of the last year to get a more informed point of view. I begin to appreciate some of the subtleties of the physical production of a zine, the time, the money, the real and hard factors that impinge. Also, in the glow of first contact, I was encountering plotlines, character developments, stylistic techniques for the first time. From my relatively deprived point of view, the first encounters with what would soon become trivial and hackneyed treatments, was thrilling beyond any thought of criticism. After all, who was I and what did I know? I have become bolder since. I have also developed a little sense of history and continuity with things.

Because of fanlit in general, I have begun to be more critical in my reading of fanlit (and all writing) in specific. Fannish writing costs too much not to develop a more considerate eye. Somewhere I read the suggestion that it is bad art that develops the appreciation of great art. So true in fan writing! However, tempering my sharp critic's knife has been my own attempts to write a story or two. Boy, are you right - it is a "rare occurrence" to keep all elements of a story equally represented. My hat remains doffed to those who succeed in their efforts.

My reading STYLUS is essentially vicarious, developing my sense of the process involved in writing/editing/publishing. I hope the issue of "how to review" does not billow... since the great T'Yenta struggle set on, a general caution to kindness is appropriate. But the peskiest times in "rejoicing in our differences" is when the differences are really different. Even the cranky have their place (if only to serve as object lesson to the rest of us).[6]

References

  1. ^ from a letter of comment in Stylus #2
  2. ^ from a letter of comment in Stylus #2
  3. ^ from a letter of comment in Stylus #2
  4. ^ from a letter of comment in Stylus #2
  5. ^ from a letter of comment in "Stylus" #2
  6. ^ from a letter of comment in "Stylus" #2