Knocking off the zeerust

Science fiction writers with long careers may be forced to decide about knocking off the zeerust from some of their older works.

What is "zeerust"? 

We've all seen it--it's what you might call "retro futuristic" ideas, looks, or concepts. It's "zeerusty" if at some point in the past it seemed futuristic, but now it just looks quaint or dated. We can thank Douglas Adams of The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (and so much more!), for this word.

A city scene from the 1927 movie Metropolis. (photo courtesy of CCNY Libraries).

Another description might be "Raygun Gothic," which refers to the tropes and idiosyncracies found in "Golden Age" pulp science fiction. You know it when you see it. "From about Metropolis till the dawn of Star Trek's original series. For example, the Hugo Award is an example of a classic Retro Rocket.

I did a whole series of posts on this phenomenon back in October 2018, although I didn't know the word "zeerust" at the time. The posts highlighted videos from the 1920s through the 1950s that featured "Futuristic" visions of "Tomorrow" in general, of kitchen technology, of automotive technology, and the kind of houses we might live in. 

As the opening line indicates, I was reflecting on writing careers that have lasted long enough for earlier works to have acquired some zeerust. For writers in my age range, their book could date to the 1970s or 1980s. "Knocking off the zeerust" in this case implies a fiction-remaking process not unlike what my husband did last weekend for an old iron patio table, using some emery paper, a wire brush, and a can of Rustoleum. 

Knocking off the zeerust . . . from what?

This whole question of zeerust arose because I'm currently reading Lee Killough's 2015 edition of The Doppelgänger Gambit. It's a fresh re-envisioning of her 1979 novel by the same name, published by Ballantine (and well received, at the time). 

The original 1979 cover of The Doppelgänger Gambit reflected the time it was published. The 2015 cover looks much different. Author Lee Killough masterminded the remake. (Photos courtesy of James Nicoll Reviews, Amazon, and Books We Love).

Early in the 2010s, when I was first thinking about police dogs on a space station, Lee and I had a conversation at one of the many SoonerCons we've both attended. She told me about her research into new, cutting-edge forensics, and a few of the cool things she'd learned.

I'm one of those weird folk who like actual, physical, dead-trees-type books. I've been waiting for her publisher, Books We Love, to come out with a trade paperback, but after five years I figure that's a doomed effort. So I grudgingly caved, and bought the Kindle edition.

Is knocking off the zeerust a good idea?

There's a valid case to be made for leaving "vintage" works as they are. Respecting the author's original vision, and viewing it in its historical context is never wrong. But any number of good reasons do exist for an author to go for a reprint, a revised edition, or even a whole new "remake," as Lee did.

Some things need no re-imagining. This artwork by Frank Kelly Freas is a dynamic masterwork of its Golden Age Pulp Science Fiction genre. The illustration was created for a story by Leigh Brackett in the September 1953 issue of Planet Stories--12 years before the first spacewalk. (Image courtesy of Scanzen on Tumblr.)

In Lee's case, she felt it was absolutely necessary--and I have to respect her artistic choice. The updates are fascinating. I read the original version not long after I first became aware of it, back in the early 1980s. And yes, in the intervening years it definitely had accumulated some zeerust. It's "near future" science fiction, set in 2091, and thus perilously prone to that kind of thing.

When the rights reverted, she wanted to re-release it, but couldn't live with the zeerust. Remakes can be a huge risk, but sometimes they're worth it. I haven't finished reading this one, so I can't tell you (yet) if I think it was worth it in this case. Although, so far I'm enjoying myself.

Zeerust and Weird Sisters Publishing

The "zeerust" question is relevant to Weird Sisters Publishing. My sister and I plan to re-release several novels by G.'s late husband, Warren C. Norwood. We also plan to dust off several of the novels she wrote in the 1990s, that didn't quite fit what the romance editors were looking for at the time. 

We think all of them are still good books. Sadly, Warren isn't here anymore to defend himself, so his works stand as they are. G. may make some adjustments, but she intends to keep them grounded in the decade when they were written.

Warren C. Norwood never loved the covers he got--but in 1982 a first-time novelist had no say over the images his publisher chose to slap on his books. In Jan's opinion, the best of the lot was the one at right--a stock cover they'd bought beforehand, based on nothing in the story. We hope to do better when we re-issue his books! (Photos courtesy of G.S. Norwood and Amazon.)

And yes, I have a couple of novels that date to the 1980s and 1990s, too. Both are science fiction, and both could stand to have a little zeerust brushed off and be touched up. Both came very close to being published "back in the day,"  but I have no current plans to revisit them. 

No, I'd rather stay focused on Rana Station and the XK9s, for now, thanks!

IMAGE CREDITS: Many thanks to CCNY Libraries, for the still from the movie Metropolis. The photos in the Lee Killough/Doppelgänger Gambit montage are courtesy of courtesy of James Nicoll Reviews, Amazon, and Books We Love. The beautiful reproduction of Frank Kelly Freas's masterful "The Ark of Mars" illustration is courtesy of Scanzen on Tumblr. The photo of Warren C. Norwood is courtesy G. S. Norwood. The cover image for An Image of Voices is courtesy of Amazon.

A Report from the Swamp Thing

Some reports come from me as the Author Ascendant; this is a report from the Swamp Thing.

On normal weeks, I like to write a thoughtful post about something that's caught my attention or is part of a series, on Wednesdays. I think of it as my "main" post of the week. 

This has not been a normal week. 

The "The almost black water of Colakreek in Suriname is popular for recreational swimming," according to the photographer, a person using the name Forrestjunky. Of course it is.

Becoming a Swamp Thing

The past two days have felt like wading through a metaphorical swamp. In the fullness of time, this'll be "old hat." I keep clinging to that thought. But anyone who's gone through the process of bringing a book into published form knows how much fun the "maiden voyage" is (not).

It seems like I've been dragging my dinghy full of dreams through muddy waters and masses of mangroves. As if I've waded through waist-deep bayous of online forms that ask arcane questions, the like of which I've never had to answer before. 

This guy is not dragging his dinghy--he's holding down the front end. We Americans have no corner on the "wild and crazy" market. This is a photo from an Australian event, the Riverland Dinghy Derby, during which two-man crews race through a swamp at speeds up to 50 mph. My efforts this week never reached a parallel velocity.

I've striven to raise coherent, properly-formatted graphics up out of the muck of previous musings and hastily-jotted notes. I've fended off biting swarms of glitches, frozen forms, and rebooted programs. And I've beaten back time-sucking leeches of error messages that come with opaque reasons that offer little insight about how to address the flagged problem.

Real mangroves are incredibly valuable plants, bridging land and sea, and doing way more than their share to sequester carbon, stabilize the land, and provide natural breakwaters from storm surges. These grow "on the banks of Vellikeel river in Kannur District of Kerala, India," according to photographer Lamiot.

Now, don't get me wrong. Swamps and wetlands are really valuable, essential ecosystems. Far from being "wastelands," they are among the most vitally important natural places to preserve. But your average human is generally at a disadvantage in that terrain. 

Evolving to Thrive in the Self-Publishing Swamp

We bipedal land-mammals would navigate them better if we really were Swamp Things. It is my aspiration to someday be a publishing-website "Swamp Thing," who floats past the flotsam and parses the particulars with ease. But in this report from the Swamp Thing, I'm still wearing my swim fins.

Here's a screen-capture of the project that ate most of my day. Finally uploaded, but still under review. The cover artwork is © 2019 by Jody A. Lee. The rest of the design and art direction is all my fault.

All joking and metaphor aside, however, I've finally made it to the point where I'm hovering on the brink of offering What's Bred in the Bone for pre-sale and Advance Reader Copies. Stand by. There will be another report from the Swamp Thing soon! (Even if I'm still just starting to grow my gills).

IMAGES

Many, many thanks to Forrestjunky and Wikimedia, for the right to use (and in my case crop) the photo  of Colakreek in Suriname. I also appreciate New 99.1 Country from Ft. Collins, CO, for the photo and story about the Riverlands Dinghy Derby--oh, what a "hold my beer and watch this," moment that race must be. And finally, I deeply appreciate photographer Lamiot. and Wikipedia, for the permission to share a photo of some of the Kannur District's mangroves. As noted in the caption, The cover artwork is © 2019 by Jody A. Lee. The rest of the design and art direction is all my fault.

Interruptions

I've been trying to wrap up my final draft and get it to the last editor since the beginning of December. My plans were clear, my goals laid out with pristine exactitude.

Yeah, that.

The details--although I'm sweating them currently--don't really matter to the big picture. What does matter is that at any moment something else WILL demand my attention. So instead of a long, wordy post I thought today I'd offer a handful of thoughts on interruptions.

As a former teacher, I can relate--although the interruptions during my classroom presentations or discussions were almost as often announcements on the intercom, or calls from the office on the classroom phone, as they were interruptions by students.

This topic yielded a multitude of cartoons and memes from office settings, medical, legal, and other fields. I certainly don't feel alone in my plight. If you share it, you have my heartfelt commiseration. If you live blissfully free of interruptions, just wait.

You'll get yours, soon enough.

IMAGES: Many thanks to QuoteFancy, for the Allen Saunders quote-image; to the Teaching in Blue Jeans Facebook page, via Charlotte Jackson's Pinterest board, for the guidance on when classroom interruptions are okay; to Comforting Quotes for the observation by French writer Andre Maurois; and to Kjersti Berg via SlidePlayer, for the "interruptions gestalt" image, though I couldn't immediately confirm the $$ estimate.

Are you ergonomic?

Artdog Image of Interest 

One of my issues, recently, has been finding ways to make my workplace more ergonomically sound. I just finished a multi-week push to finish a novel manuscript. It involved long hours of concentrated effort on my laptop, and toward the end I began to experience small amounts of pain that presaged a repetitive stress injury if I didn't watch myself!

In response, I've changed some work habits, begun doing some exercises and taking more frequent breaks. My body's put me on notice. Members of my husband's family have had much more severe carpal tunnel injuries, so I know what I'm risking if I don't take ongoing steps.

Since I've been doing this research, I thought I might as well share. How much does your workplace resemble this poster?

IMAGE: Many thanks for this graphic, to the Environmental Safety and Health webpage of University of Maryland, Baltimore County. Here's to better workplaces for all!