LOC for Fadeaway #67

The following is a letter of comment sent to Robert Jennings, editor of Fadeaway, commenting on issue #67.

Dear Mr. Jennings:

Earlier this year, I received a copy of Fadeaway #67 through

the National Fantasy Fan Federation’s franking service. I

quite enjoyed the cover and other artwork by—and

information about—Arthur Radebaugh. His approach to

combining the fantastic and “designs for modern living” was

wonderful, and that picture of him in his converted van studio

suggests he lived the life of Riley. I’ll have to look for more

examples of “Closer Than We Think.” His work does work

well in newsprint!

Your commentary on the fate and future of postcards gave me food for thought. I still enjoy sending and receiving postcards, sometimes finding them too short for proper correspondence but useful for sharing places I’ve gone to with friends and family. (I also pilfer hotel stationery for use when it’s available.) When I receive a postcard, we usually post it to the refrigerator, and when we clear space for more, we set them aside. We have quite a sizable stock of postcards—used and unused—that we’ve accumulated over the years, and I’ve occasionally picked up sets related to The Onion, DC Comics, and the like. In fact, I’ve been tempted recently by a set issued late last year by Clarkson Potter: Dungeons & Dragons—Archival Art from Every Edition, an intriguing 100-card set. Per Diem Printing offers a fun set of 25 vintage comic book covers, as well as one featuring covers from Weekly World News. Must. Not. Acquire!

But I think the reason for the decline of postcards is clear: Texting, email, and social media. Usage of postcards has probably declined in step with general correspondence and letter writing as people have adopted new ways of communicating and sharing their experiences. I’d wager that below a certain age, perhaps indeterminate, people are more likely to post to Instagram or TikTok a highlight from their experiences than to send a postcard. Of course, such general sharing is more passive and less personal than sending someone specific a postcard intended just for them. So it goes. Personally, I prefer letters like this—even writing letters of comment as though I might mail them even if I email them as an attachment. I write differently in letter form than I do in an email. I’d be curious what Dale Spiers of Opuntia has to say—or has said—on the matter.

David M. Shea’s exploration of fans who write and why they stop also gave me pause. Over the years, I’ve pursued various forms of writing as a vocation and avocationally: journalism, professional writing, and different kinds of fan writing: reviews, columns, interviews, articles, even poetry. I’ve received multiple rejection letters from Asimov’s for poetry submissions and one from Weird Tales for a short story that I’m currently workshopping with the N3F’s Writers Exchange. I ended up publishing most of my rejected work in apazines, which is a fine outlet for me, but I might turn to sending work to other people for consideration for inclusion in their fanzines. One fan editor friend recently said, “Your poetry seems fine; I don’t know why Asimov’s would reject [it]. I’d be glad to get some of your poems.” There’s something rewarding and validating about someone else publishing your work even if it’s not paid. These days, I write for work, for a scholarly journal, and for apazines and fanzines. But fiction is something I’ve largely avoided. Stories take more time for me than other forms of writing, and as a dilettante, I often tire of story ideas before I complete a piece. Workshopping my rejected Weird Tales story is an attempt to push past that tendency.

As a relatively long-standing employee of Google, I was fascinated by Rob Imes’s analysis of changes in YouTube over time. I met the founders before the video platform’s acquisition, and I’m sometimes curious what they think about its evolution over time. I mostly dip into YouTube when I’m looking for something specific, like a movie trailer, music video, or an old cartoon. During the pandemic, I’ve been watching David Lynch’s daily weather reports with some regularity. And I briefly experimented with posting video blogs of comic book reviews in order to repost the transcriptions as reviews on my blog and elsewhere. That didn’t last long, but it was a fun spurt of creativity. (I even bought one of those halo lights and a decent microphone in my enthusiasm. Silly man.)

But I haven’t given as much thought to the evolution of the platform—or its video ecosystem—as Imes has through a fannish lens. His walk through of notable fandom-related content, including a mention of Ian Shires, came close to inspiring me to make notes of things I want to check out. But to be honest, video is not my preferred mode of entertainment or learning. I’d rather read or write. So I chuckled at his admission of not including links on purpose and might not even end up exploring any of what he commented on, despite the wide range of options related to fandom. Regardless, Imes’s commentary on YouTubers’ efforts to emerge as experts or people knowledgeable on a given topic is worth considering. If video—or podcasts, for that matter—become the most widely used mode of communicating information, what happens if the people making the videos or podcasts don’t know what they’re talking about? Other newcomers won’t be able to discern the quality of information they’re receiving. Robert Beerbohm’s concerns are valid: “You have a lot yet to learn if you think you can teach about the history of comics.” Somehow, leaving comments and posting response videos hardly seem adequate. Certainly, if online video’s your thing, there’s a ton to explore. That’s pretty cool.

I found the letter column rich and rewarding. Your exchange with Lloyd Penney on the culture wars encroaching on fandom (or as Bill Plott put it, “feud-dom”) was interesting, and Gary Brown’s recollection of the SyFy Channel’s rebranding made me chuckle. I winced, too, at the time, but the network was able to make a go of it. Imagine an alternate world in which it became the Skiffy Channel or Scientifiction Channel! I also enjoyed Plott’s remarks on Archie comics. I try to buy a digest or three whenever I see them at the grocery store—to do my part to help keep them firmly ensconced by the checkout. While it’s true that Archie has modernized many of the series leading up to and related to the television show Riverdale (Mark Waid had a hand in that), they seem to respect their history, even if they’re a bit uneven in terms of what decades they showcase. After all, old Archie is the best Archie. And I appreciated the back and forth on the uneven quality of Alpha Video’s film transfers. Last night, a friend and I watched The Red House on an Alpha DVD, and the transfer was actually quite good—at least better than many of the Mill Creek DVDs I’ve accumulated over the years.

While Alpha Video’s DVD covers rank among the most garish I’ve ever seen, Fadeaway’s back cover was a delight. Just imagine the gyroscope and accelerometer necessary to maintain the balance of such a vehicle! Preposterous and wonderful. Like all the best things in life.