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subscribers about what a wonder-ful story it was.
A tip for collectors of original manuscripts: Roger had a cat which got
into a drawer where he had the manuscript-in-progress for Deus Irae, his
collaboration with Philip K. Dick, and urinated on it. Roger quickly copied
the pages and the stains, fortunately, did not show up. Doubleday was
happy with the story but in-sisted on being sent the original manuscript. So
he com-plied.  I never got a reaction, he said.  I never saw the manuscript
again. I don t know what they did with it. It s probably one of those mysteries
it s better not to know. But, he advised, if someone at a convention ever
offers to sell you that manuscript, there is a way to determine its
authenticity.
How the well-received Creatures of Light and Darkness had never
been meant for publication:  It was only by accident that a publisher found
out it existed, Roger said. He wrote it as an experiment, trying out different
styles (one entire chapter was in free verse) that he might want to use
someday. When he mentioned it to Samuel R. De-lany, Delany mentioned it
to Lawrence Ashmead at Dou-bleday, who asked to see it.  You won t like
it, Roger insisted. Two weeks later, Ashmead called back:  I like it. It
stayed in print for thirty years.  I can only come to the conclusion from this
that you never know what will catch on, Roger said.
The success of the Amber series:  I had no idea how many there
were going to be, and I was really appalled by how they caught on.
His favorites among his books: The Immortal, his first; Lord of Light,
his most ambitious: Doorways in the Sand; Eye of Cat; and his most
recent at that time, A Night in the Lonesome October, because it was
something totally different.
 I wrote The Lonesome October in six weeks. It makes me sound
like a hack, he said. He found himself skipping meals and losing sleep.
 I m so taken with the story, I can t stop.
When I was offered the opportunity to submit a story for this
collection, I wanted to do something like Roger did with Corwin in the first
Amber book, where the char-acter had no memory of how he got into his
situation and had to rely on his wits to keep others from realizing his
handicap. It had a great Raymond Chandleresque mystery tone in its
opening chapters. I reread parts of the Lindskold book, hoping to find a way
to get a grip on that feel. Instead, her writing about Zelazny s uses of
classical and popular mythologies inspired me to try a tribute to The
Lonesome October.
Roger also helped other writers get published, editing recent
anthologies like Wheel of Fortune and The Williamson Effect. His
acceptance note on my story for the latter is the nicest I ve ever gotten,
from any editor.
And, as you can see by the book you are now holding, he is still
helping writers get published.
* * * *
In a future where virtual reality makes anything possible, a young
woman discovers the ultimate thrill.
THE HALFWAY HOUSE AT THE
HEART OF DARKNESS
WILLIAM BROWNING SPENCER
KEEL WORE A RAGGED SHIRT WITH THE HOLO VEED THERE,
simmed that shimmering on it. She wore it in and out of the virtual. If she
was in an interactive virtual, the other players sometimes complained. Amid
the dragons and elves and swords of fire, a bramble-haired girl, obviously
spiking her virtual with drugs and refusing to tune her shirt to something
suitably medieval, could be distracting.
 Fizz off, Keel would say, in response to all complaints.
Keel was difficult. Rich, self-destructive, beautiful, she was twenty
years old and already a case study in virtual psychosis.
She had been rehabbed six times. She could have died that time on
Makor when she went blank in the desert. She still bore the teeth marks of
the land eels that were gnawing on her shoulder when they found her.
A close one. You can t revive the digested.
* * * *
No one had to tell Keel that she was in rehab again. She was staring at a
green ocean, huge white clouds over-head, white gulls filling the heated air
with their cries.
They gave you these serenity mock-ups when they were bringing you
around. They were fairly insipid and several shouts behind the technology.
This particular V-ran was embarrassing. The ocean wasn t continuous,
probably a seven-minute repeat, and the sun s heat was patchy on her face. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]