've just returned from the campus of the State University of New York at Stonybrook, home to the annual I-Con science-fiction convention. This year was the 23rd such gathering, and I enjoyed every minute of it, hanging out with old friends (a few of whom, to my amazement, I had not seen since the '70s) and making new ones.
At the Saturday night banquet, the con organizers presented me with the Sam Moskowitz Award. Sam Moskowitz was a writer, editor, historian and agent, but he was first and foremost a fan. He had been active in SF fandom since 1936, and was the author of The Immortal Storm, an important history of those lively early days when readers first found each other, began to bond and realized that they were not alone. According to the silver plaque, I received the honor due to "outstanding contributions to the field of science fiction fandom." I've heard others speak of it more simply as an award for service to science fiction.
The honor raised two important issues for me. The first was brought up by my look back at the history of the award, which previously been given to such luminaries as David Kyle (who has been active in fandom since the '30s and can be seen handing me the award above), Hal Clement, James Gunn, Anne McCaffrey and others. Which caused me to think—what the heck have I ever done to warrant being recognized for my contributions? Even though I've been living in this field since I was a kid, I still feel like a newbie. When I was handed the plaque, part of me thought I should have dropped to my knees, bowed and scraped, and shouted, "I'm not worthy!"
The second, more important, issue centers on gratitude, which to my mind is flowing in entirely the wrong direction. Why should I be recognized, regardless of any accomplishments, for my contributions to science-fiction fandom? Science-fiction fandom has made contributions to me entirely out of proportion to whatever I might have done in return for it. Who, really, has been in service to whom?
Unwrapping the gifts of science fiction
I have been given so much by science fiction, and by the fandom that nourishes and is nourished by it, that I can honestly say that my life would never have been the same without it. Science fiction has brought me friends, and given me a kind of extended family. And it has given me a real family as well, in the form of my wife, whom I would not have met had fandom not put my feet on the right path.
I first learned about fandom in the letters pages of comic books, and was able to attend my first comic-book convention as a young teen back in 1970. There I learned about the closely-related SF fandom, and so went to my first regional SF convention in 1972, and later my first World SF convention in 1974. It is hard for me to imagine a life in which science fiction and fellow fans have not played a large part. Fandom is a thread that is woven through the fabric of my life.
This weekend, that fabric draped over me like a blanket at I-Con, which managed to sum up my entire career in fandom, recapping in just three days my long history.
I met a couple of guys who worked security with me back at my first cons, when we used to sleep across the doorways of dealers' rooms with them at night to prevent theft. I moderated panels on comic books, which caused me to recount how my early love of them and attendance at conventions led to my working first in that field, and now this one. I was privileged to spend time kibitzing with Daniel Keyes (with whom I can be seen above), whose classic story "Flowers for Algernon" moved me as a child, and still moves me now. How astounding that I could be transformed by my decades in fandom from an admirer to someone who could sit over dinner with him and trade jokes. The gifts I had been given were never more on display, reminding me of where I had started and how far I had come.
Which means that getting thanked by science fiction for any of the small things I might have done for it, while making me proud, also seems strangely inappropriate. It is I, not science fiction, who should do the thanking, and I doubt that I could ever say thank you enough to compensate for what I have been given.
Scott Edelman started his trek to the editor-in-chief position at Science
Fiction Weekly decades ago, when he began working as an assistant editor at
Marvel Comics. Between these two positions, this four-time Hugo Award nominee in
the category of Best Editor was the founding editor of the
award-winning magazine Science Fiction Age, in addition to editing
Sci-Fi Universe, Sci-Fi Flix and Satellite Orbit. Currently, he also edits SCI
FI, the official magazine of the SCI FI Channel. His most recent short story appears in the new anthology Men Writing Science Fiction as Women, edited by Mike Resnick.
