Again, Dangerous Visions Part 1

AGAIN, DANGEROUS VISIONS.

by Harlan Ellison.

INTRODUCTION.

An a.s.sault of New Dreamers.

Dumas wrote The Three Musketeers The Three Musketeers in 1844. Popular demand compelled him to write two sequels, in 1844. Popular demand compelled him to write two sequels, Vingt Ans Apres Vingt Ans Apres in 1845 and in 1845 and Le Vicomte de Bragelonne Le Vicomte de Bragelonne in 1848. Arthur Conan Doyle grew tired of Sherlock Holmes and ended his career as a criminologist (as well as that of Professor Moriarty as a master criminal) with a tumble over the Reichenbach Falls in "The Final Problem." The public would have none of it. Doyle, pressed to the wall, revived his immortal sleuth three years later with "The Adventure of the Empty House." In 1959 Evan S. Connell, Jr. wrote in 1848. Arthur Conan Doyle grew tired of Sherlock Holmes and ended his career as a criminologist (as well as that of Professor Moriarty as a master criminal) with a tumble over the Reichenbach Falls in "The Final Problem." The public would have none of it. Doyle, pressed to the wall, revived his immortal sleuth three years later with "The Adventure of the Empty House." In 1959 Evan S. Connell, Jr. wrote Mrs. Bridge Mrs. Bridge and it became an instant cla.s.sic of contemporary fiction. No sequel was possible, but the name became a literary catchphrase, and in 1969 Mr. Connell wrote and it became an instant cla.s.sic of contemporary fiction. No sequel was possible, but the name became a literary catchphrase, and in 1969 Mr. Connell wrote Mr. Bridge Mr. Bridge. The creators of Captain America killed off that star-spangled warrior for Democracy and the American Way near the end of World War II. In the early Sixties the Sub-Mariner, Prince Namor of Atlantis, found Cap floating around perfectly preserved in a block of ice, and revived him. Isaac Asimov has had to suffer sequelization many times. No one will let him stop telling stories of Dr. Susan Calvin and her U.S. Robots and Mechanical Men, Inc.; stories of the Foundation; stories of Lije Bailey and R. Daneel Olivaw. Ike is resigned. They have lives of their own.

I did not want to edit another Dangerous Visions Dangerous Visions.

A man may enter the Valley of the Shadow once because he has a taste for danger or because he simply doesn't recognize the terrain. But once having gone and come back, only a fool returns. In November of 1965 I began work on what I thought would be an interesting little project, the creation of an anthology of new stories, in a new mode, for the field of speculative fiction. Four and a half years later, fifty thousand hardcovers and G.o.d only knows how many paperbacks later, Dangerous Visions Dangerous Visions has become a landmark (for once my ego-dreams came true) and somehow, magically, as though it had a life of has become a landmark (for once my ego-dreams came true) and somehow, magically, as though it had a life of its its own, own, Dangerous Visions Dangerous Visions has forced the creation of a companion volume, bigger than the original, and I sit here in lonely desperation, trying to beat a publication deadline, writing another Introduction. We both arrive at the same conclusion: I am a monumental fool. has forced the creation of a companion volume, bigger than the original, and I sit here in lonely desperation, trying to beat a publication deadline, writing another Introduction. We both arrive at the same conclusion: I am a monumental fool.

Let me tell you how it happened.

No, wait a minute. Let me first tell you what Dangerous Visions Dangerous Visions did, apart from selling more copies of an sf anthology than any other in recent memory. did, apart from selling more copies of an sf anthology than any other in recent memory.

First, the awards.

Fritz Leiber's "Gonna Roll the Bones" and Chip Delany's "Aye, and Gomorrah..." won the 1967 Nebula Awards of the Science Fiction Writers of America in the categories of best novelette and best short story, respectively-incidentally beating out nominees by this editor in both categories. (Seldom has a man so willingly aided his executioners.) At the 26th World SF Convention in Oakland, in 1968, Philip Jose Farmer tied for the Hugo Award in the Best Novella category with "Riders of the Purple Wage" from Dangerous Visions Dangerous Visions (for purists, he tied with Anne McCaffrey's "Weyr Search"); and Fritz took a Hugo with "Gonna Roll the Bones" for Best Novelette. (I got two Hugos that year, so I didn't feel the need to b.i.t.c.h or begrudge.) (for purists, he tied with Anne McCaffrey's "Weyr Search"); and Fritz took a Hugo with "Gonna Roll the Bones" for Best Novelette. (I got two Hugos that year, so I didn't feel the need to b.i.t.c.h or begrudge.) And the Oakland convention gave me a plaque for editing "the most significant and controversial sf book published in 1967."

Dangerous Visions appeared on BOOK WORLD'S list of the best paperbacks of 1969. It was reprinted by the Science Fiction Book Club and sold over 45,000 copies. The Literary Guild offered it as a bonus selection. It has had-or will shortly have-translations or editions in Great Britain, Germany, j.a.pan, Spain, Italy and France. It almost single-handedly helped bring into being a counter-revolutionary movement in the genre called "The Second Foundation," dedicated to eradicating all that appeared on BOOK WORLD'S list of the best paperbacks of 1969. It was reprinted by the Science Fiction Book Club and sold over 45,000 copies. The Literary Guild offered it as a bonus selection. It has had-or will shortly have-translations or editions in Great Britain, Germany, j.a.pan, Spain, Italy and France. It almost single-handedly helped bring into being a counter-revolutionary movement in the genre called "The Second Foundation," dedicated to eradicating all that Dangerous Visions Dangerous Visions stood for. Whatever that is. stood for. Whatever that is.

I personally received over two thousand letters from readers of the book ranging from a telegram from an influential New York editor who said Congratulations on publication day of the most important sf book of the decade Congratulations on publication day of the most important sf book of the decade to a Mrs. S. Blittmon of Philadelphia who wrote, in part: "When I picked up your book 'Dangerous Visions' at the library & read the 2 introductions I thought it was going to be great. I cannot tell you how sick I feel after reading [and she named two stories, one my own]. You say you had a Jewish grandmother (so did I) but I think not; she must have been Viet Cong, otherwise how could you think of such atrocities. Shame, shame on you! Science fiction should be beautiful. With your mind (?) you should be cleaning latrines & that's too nice. Sincerely..." to a Mrs. S. Blittmon of Philadelphia who wrote, in part: "When I picked up your book 'Dangerous Visions' at the library & read the 2 introductions I thought it was going to be great. I cannot tell you how sick I feel after reading [and she named two stories, one my own]. You say you had a Jewish grandmother (so did I) but I think not; she must have been Viet Cong, otherwise how could you think of such atrocities. Shame, shame on you! Science fiction should be beautiful. With your mind (?) you should be cleaning latrines & that's too nice. Sincerely..."

Go please the world.

Mostly, everyone was dazzled and delighted. The men and women who contributed the thirty-three original stories for Dangerous Visions Dangerous Visions went where no one had gone before and came back whispering of new tomorrows, many of them in ways the field of speculative fiction had never thought possible. Many people said my intention of publishing stories that were unpublishable in the commercial magazine markets because of taboos and editorial restrictions was only partially achieved. Others said only seventy per cent of the stories were top-grade. Others said sixty-two per cent, and one fan magazine found only twelve per cent of merit. Somehow, for all the p.i.s.sing and moaning, the book managed to sell like ice cubes in Rio, managed to stand the field on its ear and alter its direction, managed to puff the prides of the writers who appeared therein, and became, as I say, a landmark. Ask anyone. went where no one had gone before and came back whispering of new tomorrows, many of them in ways the field of speculative fiction had never thought possible. Many people said my intention of publishing stories that were unpublishable in the commercial magazine markets because of taboos and editorial restrictions was only partially achieved. Others said only seventy per cent of the stories were top-grade. Others said sixty-two per cent, and one fan magazine found only twelve per cent of merit. Somehow, for all the p.i.s.sing and moaning, the book managed to sell like ice cubes in Rio, managed to stand the field on its ear and alter its direction, managed to puff the prides of the writers who appeared therein, and became, as I say, a landmark. Ask anyone.

But when the dust settled, I was about eighteen hundred dollars out of pocket.

Through no frugality on the part of Doubleday, our publisher, I a.s.sure you. Strictly due to my own grandiose belief that the book was never big enough, never startling enough, never innovative enough. So I spent and spent. And as I said, when the dust cleared, I was in the hole. To date, I haven't yet hit the black on Dangerous Visions Dangerous Visions and I'm still repaying author Larry Niven for the loan he gave the book to purchase the last few stories. It doesn't matter. It was a prideful thing to a.s.semble that book. and I'm still repaying author Larry Niven for the loan he gave the book to purchase the last few stories. It doesn't matter. It was a prideful thing to a.s.semble that book.

Only one author has vocally confessed to being upset with his partic.i.p.ation in the project. I learned of that discontent only recently, and at risk of annoying the author and his agent, I really must must relay the anecdote. relay the anecdote.

J.G. Ballard-easily one of the most innovative and serious contributors to the genre of speculative fiction-mentioned in an interview that he considered Dangerous Visions Dangerous Visions a hypocritical volume because I had asked writers to submit stories they felt could not be published in the traditional markets due to controversial content or approach, but when presented with it I had rejected "The a.s.sa.s.sination of John Fitzgerald Kennedy Considered as a Downhill Motor Race." a hypocritical volume because I had asked writers to submit stories they felt could not be published in the traditional markets due to controversial content or approach, but when presented with it I had rejected "The a.s.sa.s.sination of John Fitzgerald Kennedy Considered as a Downhill Motor Race."

The interview, in a magazine called Cypher Cypher, quoted Jim Ballard as saying I had rejected the story-ostensibly written specially for Dangerous Visions- Dangerous Visions-on the grounds it would offend too many American readers.

When I read that item, I was horrified and stricken with a sinking-gut feeling...for I'd never seen seen the story. Though Ballard had, indeed, written it for the book, his agent in New York, instead of sending it on to me here in Los Angeles, had made a prejudgment that the story was offensive, and drawered it till they could return it to Ballard. Whether or not they contrived to advise Ballard I'd bounced it, I do not know, to this day. Subsequently, Michael Moorc.o.c.k published the story in the story. Though Ballard had, indeed, written it for the book, his agent in New York, instead of sending it on to me here in Los Angeles, had made a prejudgment that the story was offensive, and drawered it till they could return it to Ballard. Whether or not they contrived to advise Ballard I'd bounced it, I do not know, to this day. Subsequently, Michael Moorc.o.c.k published the story in New Worlds New Worlds in England, and it instantly drew the praise it deserved. in England, and it instantly drew the praise it deserved.

As one of the most exciting and controversial stories written in the field in recent memory, it would have been perfect for Dangerous Visions Dangerous Visions, and when I learned that I'd missed buying the piece because of a wholly unjustified clerical judgment, I ground my teeth in frustration. But to be accused of hypocrisy on top of the loss, was more than I could bear. Jim Ballard's story "The Recognition" in Dangerous Visions Dangerous Visions was a good story, a laudable piece of fantasy, but it simply wasn't in the same time-zone with "Downhill Motor Race," one of the germinal stories of the past decade. was a good story, a laudable piece of fantasy, but it simply wasn't in the same time-zone with "Downhill Motor Race," one of the germinal stories of the past decade.

When I met Jim Ballard-in Rio de Janeiro in March of 1969-we rehashed what had happened, and I thought we'd gotten the matter discussed, with mutual commiseration. Then came that Cypher Cypher quote. And though I've written him reminding him of the circ.u.mstances surrounding the "submission" of the story, there's been no reply. So if any of you out there run into J.G. Ballard, would you kinda sorta tell him what happened? I'd hate for him, or any of you, to grow much older thinking I was stupid enough to reject a story that clearly brilliant and noteworthy. quote. And though I've written him reminding him of the circ.u.mstances surrounding the "submission" of the story, there's been no reply. So if any of you out there run into J.G. Ballard, would you kinda sorta tell him what happened? I'd hate for him, or any of you, to grow much older thinking I was stupid enough to reject a story that clearly brilliant and noteworthy.

I've been known to be stupid, but I refuse to cop to a charge of brain damage.

And while we're on the subject of my stupidity, I have to own up to stupidity in having arbitrarily denied a s.p.a.ce in Dangerous Visions Dangerous Visions to Thomas Disch, whose work these past four years has elevated him to the top level of sf writers. Because of personal blindness, I rejected a Disch story that to Thomas Disch, whose work these past four years has elevated him to the top level of sf writers. Because of personal blindness, I rejected a Disch story that should should have been in the book and, when later I got to know Tom better, regretted my prejudice bitterly. have been in the book and, when later I got to know Tom better, regretted my prejudice bitterly.

Fortunately, Disch is a better man than your now-humble editor, and he has written for this this volume an even better story. We'll get to that in due time, but the mention of that omission on my part brings us to the next phase of this introduction: volume an even better story. We'll get to that in due time, but the mention of that omission on my part brings us to the next phase of this introduction: Why another Dangerous Visions Dangerous Visions collection? collection?

Well, Disch is one reason. Piers Anthony is another. And the forty other writers herein nail it down finally.

Even so, even though there were handfuls of authors who never made it into Dangerous Visions Dangerous Visions, I was quite literally dragged, kicking and screaming, to Again, Dangerous Visions Again, Dangerous Visions. I'll tell you about it.

After DV came out (you'll excuse me if I resort to initialese; the book is long enough as it stands, over 250,000 words, without having to write out Dangerous Visions Dangerous Visions every time), in 1967, and the memory of what aggravation it had been to get the d.a.m.ned thing together had faded from Doubleday editor Larry Ashmead's mind, he considered the sales figures, added them to the amount of prestige the book had brought to the otherwise foundering Doubleday empire, and he decided there should be a companion volume. every time), in 1967, and the memory of what aggravation it had been to get the d.a.m.ned thing together had faded from Doubleday editor Larry Ashmead's mind, he considered the sales figures, added them to the amount of prestige the book had brought to the otherwise foundering Doubleday empire, and he decided there should be a companion volume.

I am too much the gentleman to comment on the history of congenital insanity in the Ashmead ancestry, save to report Larry is inordinately proud of a spinster Ashmead aunt who was said to have had repeated carnal knowledge of a catamaran, and a paternal great-grandfather who introduced the peanut-b.u.t.ter-and-tuna-fish ice cream sundae in the Hebrides.

For my part, I was still recuperating from DV, both physically and financially. The high praise and bitter denunciations of the book were totaling at that time, and I was sitting back, breathing deeply, and thinking how good it was that the entire DV affair was ended. That was early in June of 1968.

The phone rang.

It was Ashmead.

"Hi, Harlan!" He always opens his conversations that way with me. As though he's really genuinely pleased to be talking to me. Sneaky sonofab.i.t.c.h.

"Hi, Larry," I responded, "what's happening? How's the latest Allen Drury disaster doing?"

"Making a fortune," he said.

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself, actually taking money for dreck dreck like that. Why don't you get into a decent line of work, like racehorse doping or pre-p.u.b.escent white slavery?" like that. Why don't you get into a decent line of work, like racehorse doping or pre-p.u.b.escent white slavery?"

"We also publish Irving Stone, Leon Uris and Taylor Caldwell. Any one of whom makes more than you make in a year, in any five minute period."

"I only wish on you plagues of mice, locusts, salamanders, Irving Wallace, Jacqueline Susann and Harold Robbins. Also you should never be able to get a good point on your pencils." I'd have wished Erich Segal on him, but who knew about that that horror in 1968? We Jews have a fine mind for curses. horror in 1968? We Jews have a fine mind for curses.

"Just called to tell you we're putting DV out of print."

"Terrific," I said. "It's the hottest selling anthology in sf history, nothing but rave reviews, colleges are starting to use it as a text and you put it out of print. What corporate genius came up with that that one?" one?"

"It's Doubleday policy."

"That's what Adolf Eichmann said. Do you broast chickens on the side?"

"How'd you like to do another Dangerous Visions? Dangerous Visions?"

I hung up on him.

He called me back. "We were cut off."

"We weren't cut off. I hung up on you."

"Oh. What I said was: 'How'd you like to do another Dangerous Visions? Dangerous Visions?' "

I hung up on him again.

So he called me back again and before I could say anything he screamed very shrilly, "DON'T HANG UP ON ME!"

"Okay," I said, "I won't hang up on you, but don't you you use filthy language to me over the phone. I'm of a delicate nature." use filthy language to me over the phone. I'm of a delicate nature."

"But why not? not? I think it would be a marvelous idea." I think it would be a marvelous idea."

"I'll hang up on you again."

"Think of all the writers who've been influenced by the book. Writers who need that kind of showcase, writers who need a break, writers who want to spread their wings, writers who..."

"Ashmead, knock it off. I used that hype on you you when I was trying to sell you when I was trying to sell you Dangerous Visions Dangerous Visions in '65." in '65."

"I know. I was using the memo you sent me. You misspelled fledgling."

"Go away, I'm retired from the editing business."

But he persisted. Lawrence Ashmead is a very persistent man. Anyone who publishes Asimov has learned learned to be persistent. Also comatose. to be persistent. Also comatose.

So I decided the surest, quickest way to scare him off was to demand three times as much money as Doubleday had ever offered for a science fiction book. So I demanded it. (No, I'm not going to tell you how much that was, so stop bugging me.) "It's a deal!" Larry chirruped. When he has swallowed a canary he always always chirrups. chirrups.

I sank instantly and completely out of sight in a funk of watertight absoluteness.

"You has done me, Ashmead," I muttered, chewing my armpit. I felt like a satyr condemned to a h.e.l.l of s.e.x-crazed nymphomaniacs, each with her own special spirochete or Oriental fungus.

"Just remember how happy you were when DV won all those awards," he said. "Don't you remember how happy you were?" My mind's camera quickly flashed the memory behind my eyes. I remembered those Nebula citations Larry and I had picked up for the award-winning Leiber and Delany stories. I saw again my expression. It didn't look happy to me. It looked like a man who has just eaten a ripe persimmon. It looked like this:

Photo by Jay Kay Klein

I shrugged away the ghastly after-image of myself (in corrupted missionary tuxedo shirt and ludicrous facial stricture), of Ashmead (dapper, smug, already plotting my future horror) and said, "Okay, I'll do another volume of the d.a.m.ned thing, but I'll do it at my own pace but I'll do it at my own pace. You have got got to promise on the lives of your cats that you won't to promise on the lives of your cats that you won't noodge noodge me about deadlines. I can take ten years if I want to." me about deadlines. I can take ten years if I want to."

"Sure, Harlan," he said. The voice of the asp.

On June 28th, 1968 the contracts were signed and I began soliciting ma.n.u.scripts for the book you now hold in your hands. Or propped against your belly. Or whatever.

(As an aside, I also made sure no book club or paperback editions of Again, Dangerous Visions Again, Dangerous Visions could be sold without my agreement, thereby a.s.suring that the writers who contributed to this volume would have a good long trade edition run for their royalties before those deadbeats among you who wait for cheaper editions could obtain marked-down incarnations. The point of this aside is to a.s.sure those of you reading this book over the shoulders of your friends, that you won't be obtaining a cheapo version for some time, so you'd better rush out right now and buy this edition at full-price. Or rip it off from the bookstore. Either way it counts for full royalties.) could be sold without my agreement, thereby a.s.suring that the writers who contributed to this volume would have a good long trade edition run for their royalties before those deadbeats among you who wait for cheaper editions could obtain marked-down incarnations. The point of this aside is to a.s.sure those of you reading this book over the shoulders of your friends, that you won't be obtaining a cheapo version for some time, so you'd better rush out right now and buy this edition at full-price. Or rip it off from the bookstore. Either way it counts for full royalties.) As I got into the editing of this book, I found my greatest joy was in seeing stories by new writers who were just starting to flex their literary muscles. An only slightly less joyful joy was in seeing older writers, who'd established reputations for doing one certain kind of story, trying something new.

The word had gotten around because of DV that asking for really far-reaching innovative fiction was not mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. And (despite what happened with Ballard) the writers responded.

As a consequence, I find this second book in the DV trilogy much much more daring and, well, "dangerous" than the first. Lupoff and Anthony and Nelson and Vonnegut and O'Donnell and Bernott and Parra and Tiptree get it on in ways I don't think would have been possible before the advent of more daring and, well, "dangerous" than the first. Lupoff and Anthony and Nelson and Vonnegut and O'Donnell and Bernott and Parra and Tiptree get it on in ways I don't think would have been possible before the advent of Dangerous Visions Dangerous Visions.

Now I realize that smacks of hoopla, and I've been pilloried repeatedly in the fan press for steadfastly and endlessly committing the crime. Understanding in front that this explanation contains not one scintilla of defense, let me advise all who will review or comment on this this DV that I will do it again-the hyper-ventilating hurrah-because whatever uglies are laid at DV that I will do it again-the hyper-ventilating hurrah-because whatever uglies are laid at my my door, it gets the word out for the rest of the men and women in this book. You see, in a very real sense, I am the custodian of this wonderland. It is my responsibility to see that every writer in this book gets the widest possible exposure for his or her work. It is a trust which I a.s.sume with considerable grat.i.tude, and with a naked intent to smash down doors and bang on drums and b.u.t.tonhole critics and beat on the ears of potential readers till they scream all right, all right, already, I'll door, it gets the word out for the rest of the men and women in this book. You see, in a very real sense, I am the custodian of this wonderland. It is my responsibility to see that every writer in this book gets the widest possible exposure for his or her work. It is a trust which I a.s.sume with considerable grat.i.tude, and with a naked intent to smash down doors and bang on drums and b.u.t.tonhole critics and beat on the ears of potential readers till they scream all right, all right, already, I'll read read it...and then first-story writers in this book like Evelyn Lief and Ken McCullough and Jim Hemesath will have their chance, as well as established names like Ursula Le Guin and Ben Bova and Tom Sherred. it...and then first-story writers in this book like Evelyn Lief and Ken McCullough and Jim Hemesath will have their chance, as well as established names like Ursula Le Guin and Ben Bova and Tom Sherred.

It's not the gentlemanly way to do it, I suppose, but in a world where Evelyn Lief and Al Parra have to compete with Jacqueline Susann and Erich Segal, having the services of a flack commando can be a necessary evil.

How it pains my mother to hear me called evil.

The introduction to Dangerous Visions Dangerous Visions talked about that book (hopefully) being the opening shot of a revolution in the literary genre of speculative fiction. From that simple phrase came endless reams of criticism and artificial controversy. The phrase gave birth to another phrase: The New Wave. talked about that book (hopefully) being the opening shot of a revolution in the literary genre of speculative fiction. From that simple phrase came endless reams of criticism and artificial controversy. The phrase gave birth to another phrase: The New Wave.

A few words should be expended here on the subject.

We are a small but closely-tied community, we readers and writers of sf. We fight and love and honor and hate one another the way any small family does, and whenever one of us has the audacity to suggest that things here in the household might be run a little differently, ah, then we have recrimination, vitriol, backbiting, remorse. Danger threatens. Ta-rahhh! The lancers lurch to the rescue. The dragoons deploy. The hussars hurtle forward. To protect the reputations of Arthur C. Clarke and Hal Clement and Robert Heinlein. Oh, come on! on! Is someone putting us on? Does Norman Spinrad Is someone putting us on? Does Norman Spinrad really really threaten Isaac Asimov? Can John Jeremy Pierce truly believe that? No one in his right mind ever said "the new wave," whatever the h.e.l.l that might be, was going to drive Murray Leinster or Poul Anderson or Frank Herbert off the printed page. In fact, Frank will have a story in threaten Isaac Asimov? Can John Jeremy Pierce truly believe that? No one in his right mind ever said "the new wave," whatever the h.e.l.l that might be, was going to drive Murray Leinster or Poul Anderson or Frank Herbert off the printed page. In fact, Frank will have a story in The Last Dangerous Visions The Last Dangerous Visions. (More about that later. Let's stick to the subject.) Poul was in the original DV. It's all bulls.h.i.t. (Oops. There go a hundred library sales of this book. Ah well.) The New Wave is as much myth as The Old Wave, unless we choose to postulate The Old Wave as forming back around the time of Aristophanes and cresting out with, say, Randall Garrett.

It's all bulls.h.i.t, kiddies, and let's hear no more about it.

DV and A,DV are composed of almost a hundred hundred New Waves, each one just a single writer in depth, and each one going its own way, against the tides. Take it or leave it, we are a family of mavericks and toads and pteranodons, and I cannot see New Waves, each one just a single writer in depth, and each one going its own way, against the tides. Take it or leave it, we are a family of mavericks and toads and pteranodons, and I cannot see any anyone driving Bob Heinlein any anywhere he doesn't want to go.

Does it pa.r.s.e? Hopefully.

Onward.

Even casual observers of the DV series will see that no one who appeared in DV appears in this book. Nor will any of those found in DV of A,DV be found in the final book of the trilogy, The Last Dangerous Visions The Last Dangerous Visions. When I took on the job of editing this second book, and said there would be no repeats, I was advised I'd lost my mind, there weren't-simply weren't-enough other other good writers to fill out a second book. Bulls.h.i.t again, my children. Not only were there enough to fill good writers to fill out a second book. Bulls.h.i.t again, my children. Not only were there enough to fill this this book with more writers than we saw in DV, but the overflow had to be put into a third volume. And we book with more writers than we saw in DV, but the overflow had to be put into a third volume. And we still still haven't used up the riches. haven't used up the riches.

When DV was published, I thought I'd gathered in all the important writers. But since then Piers Anthony and Gregory Benford and Richard Lupoff and Gene Wolfe and Thomas Disch and the amazing James Tiptree, Jr. have burst on us, and there are more where they they came from. Ours is a field of constant growth, of fresh thoughts and new dreams. Were I to edit a DV every month for the next ten years I wouldn't be able to keep up with the influx of writers. came from. Ours is a field of constant growth, of fresh thoughts and new dreams. Were I to edit a DV every month for the next ten years I wouldn't be able to keep up with the influx of writers.

So why, the question will be asked, are certain writers conspicuous by their absence? Why no Bester, why no de Camp, why no Heinlein, why no George P. Elliott or Wilson Tucker or Alexei Panshin? Because I've asked each of these writers at least once, and most many times, to contribute to the books, but things just didn't work out. Bob Heinlein is into new novels and he hasn't been well. Alfred Bester is editing Holiday Holiday. George Elliott was offered a better showcase and more money by Esquire Esquire and he quite rightly took the deal. Alex Panshin tried to please me with a story but I didn't like it, probably because I had to read it in a restaurant in the company of twenty shrieking sf writers and their ladies (as well as some shrieking sf writers who were, themselves, ladies) and I was half coherent from an oncoming flu bout...but then again, maybe it just wasn't a very good story. In any case, he didn't try me again, for which I'm sorry. Alex is a fine writer. and he quite rightly took the deal. Alex Panshin tried to please me with a story but I didn't like it, probably because I had to read it in a restaurant in the company of twenty shrieking sf writers and their ladies (as well as some shrieking sf writers who were, themselves, ladies) and I was half coherent from an oncoming flu bout...but then again, maybe it just wasn't a very good story. In any case, he didn't try me again, for which I'm sorry. Alex is a fine writer.

As for Wilson Tucker, well, that's another story: I don't know whether you've ever heard of Richard Geis, but in the event you aren't that much into sf, he is a very talented writer who also edited a magazine called Science Fiction Review Science Fiction Review for many years. It was a gathering-place and watering-hole for fans and professionals, where opinion and information was offered in between the name-calling. Well, in issue #32 of SFR, in August of 1969, Piers Anthony got into a ha.s.sle with Wilson (Bob) Tucker, and the following extract from an Anthony letter appeared: for many years. It was a gathering-place and watering-hole for fans and professionals, where opinion and information was offered in between the name-calling. Well, in issue #32 of SFR, in August of 1969, Piers Anthony got into a ha.s.sle with Wilson (Bob) Tucker, and the following extract from an Anthony letter appeared: "In reply to my urging that he publish a good new sf story in Again, Dangerous Visions Again, Dangerous Visions (so as not to let the volume go entirely to pot by being filled with the crud of neo writers like me), Bob Tucker says he would not have a fair chance with Harlan Ellison...Since it is important to me that Tucker be in that volume, I am forced to rear back on my hind limbs and tackle the bull by the b.a.l.l.s: (so as not to let the volume go entirely to pot by being filled with the crud of neo writers like me), Bob Tucker says he would not have a fair chance with Harlan Ellison...Since it is important to me that Tucker be in that volume, I am forced to rear back on my hind limbs and tackle the bull by the b.a.l.l.s: "Harlan Ellison-are you there? I challenge you, by the authority vested in me as one of the youngest and turkiest of the young turks, to publish the excellent sf story Bob Tucker offers you for Again, Dangerous Visions Again, Dangerous Visions, to pay him at least 3 per word against hard and paper royalties, and not to tamper with one single word in it. (You may say what you please in your introduction, however.) Kindly signify your abject acceptance of these rigorous terms by so stating publicly in this fanzine.

"OK, Bob, you're on your own now. Submit your story. (I always like to give the tired old timers a helping hand in coping with today's more demanding market.)"

Well, Piers did it again.

Foot in mouth, he did a no-no.

Understand, I have nothing but respect for most of what Piers has written these last five years, but if he thinks that kind of challenge really incites either Tucker or me, he's wrong. I'd been in contact with Tucker long before Piers set his teeth on edge. In fact, Bob had submitted an excellent short novel for my consideration. After reading and enjoying it, however, I reluctantly came to the conclusion it was not right for this book.

Again understand, it was a good good book. It just wasn't offbeat enough for book. It just wasn't offbeat enough for this this particular madhouse. It could have been published by any mainstream publisher (unlike Piers's story or Lupoff's or Nelson's or Vonnegut's) and so I particular madhouse. It could have been published by any mainstream publisher (unlike Piers's story or Lupoff's or Nelson's or Vonnegut's) and so I very very reluctantly returned it to Tucker. Since then, Bob has written and seen published to wide acclaim, reluctantly returned it to Tucker. Since then, Bob has written and seen published to wide acclaim, The Year of the Quiet Sun The Year of the Quiet Sun, a novel that should have satisfied Piers as to Tucker's continued strength as a writer.

But you see, that's an example of the kind of challenge the DV books have come to represent, and it explains with one instance why some writers are not present here.

Randy Garrett isn't here because, though he called one frantic November night and tried to hype me into sending him an advance against a story he would would write, he never submitted a ma.n.u.script. write, he never submitted a ma.n.u.script.