The 27th book in Pulphouse Publishing’s Author’s Choice Monthly series, with stories by Roger Zelazny, took a while to find at an acceptable price. But now, I finally have all 29 books in the series. Of those 29, the vast majority that I own are in the trade paperback edition; only three in hardcover. The hardcovers were limited to 300 signed copies; some are numbered, some are not. In addition, there was a deluxe leather-bound edition, limited to 50 numbered and signed copies. The latter are for hardy souls with deep pockets.
For many years I owned just two of the books in this series. Then, in 2023 I started trying to find the other books in the series. Originally, I thought that I might acquire them all in time to review them, one book at a time, during the month of February, 2024. Since 2024 is a leap year there are 29 days in February, so I would have been able to match one day per book.
However, some books proved hard to locate at acceptable prices, especially the ones by Charles de Lint, William F. Wu, and Roger Zelazny. I thought that they’d all be relatively easy to find, but that wasn’t always the case. When I knew that I wouldn’t be able to get them all in time to read and write a review by February 1st, I halted that plan. Now that I have them all, it’s a question whether I continue my plan to read them in order (more or less, as I already ready the two that I previously owned), or just read them at random. It’s strange to think that since the last book in the series was published in 1992, so many of the authors have shuffled off their mortal coil. There is nothing crueler than time.
The Magic Wagon, Joe R. Lansdale, Subterranean Press 2001. Originally published by Doubleday as a hardcover in 1986, then as a mass-market paperback in 1988 at the same time as the UK edition appeared, this is one of Joe. R. Lansdale’s earliest novels. The novel was re-issued as a signed edition hardcover and trade paperback by Subterranean Press in 2001. Another limited edition (500 copies) was published by BookVoice Publishing in 2018. The original is hard to find and expensive. I read a lot of Westerns in my teen years, mostly Zane Grey and Louis L’Amour, and although this book might have been marketed as a Western, it’s only tangentially such.
The copy that I recently acquired was the signed edition from Subterranean Press. It’s a slim volume, just over 150 pages. I’ve read a fair amount of Lansdale’s books and stories, though I’m by no means a collector, since I don’t specifically look for his books, but buy them if I come across them in stores. It will be interesting to see his style from 1986, although I first came across his books in 1991, when I read Savage Season and Cold in July (the latter having been published a few years prior). [Note: Lansdale style has not changed much over the years; the same voice from The Magic Wagon tends to appear in most of his fiction.]
F. Paul Wilson, Panacea, 2016, Gauntlet Press. I already have the Tor edition of this book, but when an opportunity arose to pick up the signed limited edition for $10, I thought, “Why not?” This is one of 500 copies, and comes with an afterword by Thomas Monteleone. Not sure if I’ll be able to find the other two novels in the ICE trilogy at the same price,
F. Paul Wilson, The Compendium of F, Volume 3, Borderlands Press, 2021. Limited to 350 copies, of which this is number 122. I already have Wilson’s short three story collections: Soft and Others (1989), The Barrens and Others (1998), and Aftershock and Others (2009). In the last book, Wilson writes that this is his last original collection, as he was giving up short stories to focus solely on novels. So, after 2005, no more stories. Still, never say never…
Starting in 2021, Borderlands Press gathered all of Wilson’s short fiction into three limited and lettered edition volumes, each entitled The Compendium of F (a play on “F” as riff on the first initial in his byline and the fictional Compendium of Srem in his Repairman Jack novels). Copies occasionally pop up for sale on the used market, usually far beyond the original cover price. Recently, I lost out on two auctions for the third volume, as I have a hard ceiling when it comes to bidding on any book. Then, for around the same price as my bid ceiling, I bought a copy listed online elsewhere; I probably won’t have the same luck with the first and second volumes.
Volume 3 collects stories from 2000 onward, so the ones in Aftershock published prior to 2000 appear in an earlier volume. Did Wilson keep his word when he wrote in Aftershock that there would be no more stories? No, and for that fans of Wilson’s fiction are thankful. There are around dozen new stories in this book. I’m not sure why the third volume showed up for sale at far cheaper prices than the first two, with all these new stories. Maybe there are stories in the earlier volumes that weren’t collected in Soft and Others and The Barrens and Others? Regardless, I’m glad to have finally acquired a copy of this volume, so I can read Wilson’s most recent stories.
Damon Knight, editor, The Golden Road, Simon & Schuster, 1974. Another impulse purchase. Bought for $5 (plus shipping & tax), this anthology from a few decades ago collects 19 short stories from some of the major names in science fiction at that time. SF books in even semi-decent conditions from back then isn’t easy to find in my local used book stories, and as I like several of the writers in this anthology, for that price it was almost a no-brainer.
The book as such does have a few flaws: the spine leans slightly, there’s spotting on the pages, and an inch-long tear on the table of contents page. Looking back at the authors in the 19 stories collected in this book, 13 names are known to me, while six are unknowns. Four of the names that I know hark from a long time ago, while the rest are more recent. There are stories from Arthur Machen and Mark Twain, as well Larry Niven and Ursula K. Le Guin. At least one of those “unknown” writers was a big name in fantasy fiction around the same time as Machen and Twain, but is mostly forgotten today. All the stories fall under the rubric of fantasy, more so than science fiction. Probably not a collectible book, per se, but likely some great reading in those pages.
Subterranean Press for many years has published “best of” collections. These are massive books, 500, or 600 pages long, spanning the career of a specific author. As with most Subterranean Press books, they tend to sell out quickly.
Recently I picked up a pair of these collections, The Best of Gregory Benford and The Dark Ride: The Best Short Fiction of John Kessel.
Published in 2015, The Best of Gregory Benford collects 38 soties out his more than 200 published short fiction. I read several Benford books in the 1990s, but I don’t think I’ve read any of his short fiction. His novels embody the essence of “hard SF.” The titles of some of his novels are as inventive and powerful as the content, from Against Infinity, In the Ocean of Night,Across the Sea of Suns, and more. Once, again at some point in the 1990s, I had dinner with Benford and a bunch of others, and also was involved in the Prometheus Award ceremony where he presented an award. He signed some paperback and hardbacks that I owned at the time. He was gracious, witty, and personable. I look forward to reading these stories. This Subterranean Press edition was published in a trade and limited edition, and I picked up the trade edition from a local dealer, Lawrence Person, a few months ago.
In contrast to not having read Benford’s short fiction, I have read a handful of John Kessel short stories, all from a collection published by Arkham House in 1992, called Meeting in Infinity. I read those stories probably back when I bought that book in the early 1990s, so I remember nothing about them; my excuse is that I’ve read too many books since then.
Published in 2022 this collection, entitled, The Dark Ride, appears to only have been issued in a limited edition of 1,000 signed and numbered copies. I came across it in a local used book store. Shocked that anyone would sell a signed, numbered book, I picked it up at once. Although slightly longer than the Benford collection, Kessel’s book contains fewer stories—only 20.
Short story collections usually don’t sell many copies (something writers usually complain about in their introductions to their own collections). In that sense, they are ideally suited for small press publishers, who’ll run off a few copies at prices twice (or more) what you would pay for a regular hardcover by a traditional publisher like BAEN or Tor (although they do occasionally publish collections).
The starting price for most of these Sub Press editions is usually $40 or more. For the Benford book in 2015, the low end edition was $40. Meanwhile, in 2022, the signed edition from Kessel was only $45. And yet, these books tend to sell out right away, which means there are readers who want to buy short fiction between hard covers, not just in magazines. I’ve seen others listed for slightly less, or, in the case of signed limited editions, for a lot more, from Sub Press itself. On the secondary market, well, it’s whatever people thing it’s worth.
A look at Sub Press’s catalog reveals a situation that’s both good and bad. Michael Swanwick: out of print; Nancy Kress: out of print; Kage Baker: out of print; Gregory Benford: out of print; Lucius Shepard: out of print. The list goes on and on… If you’re looking for any of these books now, your only option is book dealers who snapped up copies to sell, with a slight (or more than slight) profit to themselves. Good luck out there. Find a collection from a writer you like, and you’ll see their career in highlights.
In 2009 Jasper Fforde published the novel Shades of Grey. Another novel around the same time, with a number in the title, led to some confusion. Fforde’s Shades of Grey, as stated in the Wikipedia entry, “takes place in Chromatacia, an alternative version of the United Kingdom wherein social class is determined by one’s ability to perceive colour.” (Note the British spelling.) Thus, it’s a vastly different type of novel from that fan-fiction novel with a number in the title. This led to some confusion when I mentioned to friends that I’d read a book with “shades of grey” in the title.
Red Side Story is the 2024 sequel to Shades of Grey. That’s quite a long time between sequels, but between those two books Fforde wrote a series of four novels in the young adult genre, as well as two adult novels set in a different world, Early Riser (2014) and The Constant Rabbit (2020). Fforde is perhaps best known for the Thursday Next series of books. He falls into the genre of “comic fiction,” perhaps, as his books are somewhat on the edge of reality and veering into an amusing side world.
I’ve been a steady fan of Fforde’s work, starting with the first Thursday Next novel, The Eyre Affair, way back in 2001. I liked Shades of Grey, couldn’t get into Early Riser, and, as far as The Constant Rabbit, well, I missed the latter entirely. The YA books are hard to find in the US, at least in my local book stores, so I only have the first one in that series, and it remains unread. Then, by chance a month or so ago I saw the title of Red Side Story online, and that it was released in 2024. There’s a local bookstore just over a mile from my house. I checked their website, saw it was in stock, and drove over there (it’s over 100 F during the day here in the Central Texas summer, so I didn’t think about walking over there and back). I found a small stack of the books, picked one and paid for it,
Two days later I’d finished reading the novel. It’s that good. In this novel we learn more about Chromatacia, a future England that’s become a sort of preserve, or basis for an experiment on a different species of humanity. They are controlled, observed, experimented on, and subjected to horrible acts, from targeted murder to wide-spread culling. The protagonist from Shades of Grey is back. He’s accused of murder, and his fate’s already been decided even before the trial. Yet he’s able to walk around freely and take on tasks for his community, at least before the trial. He, along with his love interest, discover dangerous things about their society. They survive their trial, and head to an event akin to a local Olympics, where they hope to learn more details about their recent discovery. Instead, they learn that they’ve uncovered something so dangerous that people are willing to destroy an entire village just to suppress their knowledge.
Fforde might be best known for his comic fiction, and there are some funny moments here. But, it’s mostly an even sort of novel, even a political one. There were quite a few surprises along the way, and a Truman Show type of control on the Chromatica population. Overall, a strong novel, and it makes me think I need to give Early Riser another chance, and see if I can find The Constant Rabbit, even though I already have a favorite book about rabbits.
Paperback, hardback, limited edition hardback, signed limited edition, signed and numbered, signed and lettered, leather, slipcased, specially bound, etc. First editions, first hardcover edition, first US or British edition. A book sometimes is published in different states, even by the same publisher. Other books may appear under different imprints; are those books then first editions? The variation in an edition might appear minor, or there will be extras depending on the rarity of the state. The price to the buyer will rise accordingly. And, should the book sell out, often the price will sky-rocket in the secondary market. The price also is dependent upon the author, the publisher, or both. Some books get only a hardcover and paperback edition. Some get only a paperback edition (yet some of those might re-surface in a small press hardcover edition, years later). Other books are published only in special editions, while some run the gamut from paperback to special edition. And some appear only as print on demand, or in electronic format, or audio format.
Many has been the time when I’ve wondered about the “special edition” format. Small press publishers will, more often than not, publish books in several different states. They’ll call them trade editions, limited editions, or numbered and lettered editions. They may change the format of the book, add signatures from authors, editors, illustrators, etc. The more “special” an edition, the higher the price. Some buyers will gravitate to the rarer editions, seeking a slipcased and lettered copy. Is this book any better than a trade edition from that same publisher? Does a number and signature mean than much? If you bought a trade hardcover edition, and then had the author sign it (or inscribe it), would be any different?
Recently I did a quick count, and around 10% of my collection of books contain the author’s signature. Only 4% of my books are “numbered” in the more special limited edition state. None are of the rarest of rare states, although there are a few with slipcases. On a few occasions I have brought books to conventions or author signings, where authors have signed paperbacks and hardbacks, sometimes inscribing the book to me, even though they don’t know me (although I did know one of two and that meant even more to me when they signed the books).
I do feel a certain frisson when I know that a book I own is limited to a certain number of copies. The smaller the limitation, the greater than feeling, perhaps. Probably the hardcore collectors feel that emotions to a greater degree.
And yet, at the same time, having a signed paperback or an inscribed book means just as much to me, since in the latter case it means that I met the author, maybe spoke to him or her. How does having a couple of Ray Bradbury signed books from an in-person event compare to a handful of Jack Vance signed books when I never met Vance? If I bought a signed Bradbury book now, given that he passed a few years ago, would it mean as much as those two signed books that he handed back to me in person? No, definitely not.
And, so, when I buy a book these days, the signature in place doesn’t really matter too much to me. Instead, when I buy a “rare” book, it’s the hardcover that I want, not the rarest variation of that hardcover. If I own the paperback, and a hardcover becomes available, I’ll pick the cheapest hardcover, even if that means the book costs more than $20 or $50. But, at the moment, never above $100. At some point, given our government’s propensity to push inflation as a norm, I know that barrier will at some point be crossed, and I will have to spend $100 for a book. A month ago I passed on a book I really, really wanted, just because it was listed at $149. That price point’s something that will be hard for me to accept, and maybe if that’s becomes the new norm I will need to re-think my approach to books, and stick to what I have, or lesser editions.
I whiffed on guessing the latest volume in Borderlands Press series of “Little Books.” After a grouping that included Robert E. Howard and H.P. Lovecraft, I thought the next one would be collection from their contemporary, Clark Ashton Smith. Instead, the author was Edgar Allan Poe, who died in 1849, more than 40 years before Lovecraft was born.
Perhaps no other American writer is more famous than Poe, although one could argue cases for Henry David Thoreau, Herman Melville, and Nathaniel Hawthorne. These three are known primarily for one work each, while Poe is known for his vast body of work. Poe wrote stories that today would be considered horror, science fiction, and mystery. He wrote primarily short stories, along with some poems. Melville is known for his massive novel, Moby Dick, while Hawthorne is known for The Scarlet Letter (although he wrote a several other great books, and many significant short stories).
Many collections of Poe’s stories and poems exist. I own one called The Unabridged Edgar Allan Poe, which replaced a previous book that I believe was called Tales of Mystery and Imagination. The unabridged book supposedly contains ALL of Poe’s fiction and poetry, at least those that were published. Poe published many versions of his stories and poems; this book purports to contain the first version of each story. Does that matter? Perhaps not.
Regardless, Borderlands Press surprised me when they announce Poe would be the focus of a Little Book. I ordered my copy a week ago, and received it on May 31, 2024. This collection, entitles A Little Gold Book of Grotesqueries, was limited to 500 copies, signed by the editor. The “gold” in the title, by the way, has been used three times prior, for books by Neil Gaiman, David Morrell, and Lee Child.
How does this book, with its 155 pages, compare to the 1,178 pages of the Unabridged edition? Owner and publisher of Borderlands Press, Thomas Monteleone, edited the Poe collection. He penned a personal introduction, writing about how he first was introduced to Poe’s fiction at the age of 14. I, too, read Poe as a teenager, but probably more so in my early twenties while at college. This books collects a mix of stories and poems. It contains the famous poem, “The Raven,” although it leaves out perhaps the most famous short stories of them all, “The Cask of Amontillado.” Nonetheless, it’s a great collection of Poe’s short works.
As an aside, I do think the editor was lazy to reprint the “About the author” text word for word from the first paragraph in Wikipedia’s entry on Poe.
Here’s another F. Paul Wilson book that I picked up as part of my recent quest to find all Wilson books that I don’t own (I think that list is down to less than five at the moment, though I’m not counted books with Wilson contributions vs. his stuff alone, or limited edition versions of books that I already own).
The Christmas Thingy was originally published in 2000 as a hardcover be Cemetery Dance in a limited edition of 350 copies. It’s since been reprinted in trade paperback editions, but still remains as a somewhat obscure book. For a time. Wilson offered to sign books as a gift via the old Repairman Jack forum web site. I didn’t really pay much attention back then. Lately, I’ve been on a Wilson kick, and I found an opportunity to acquire a limited hardcover edition of this book.
Originally published in 2000, this edition was priced at $20, which seems low for a book limited to 350 copies. Ironically, I bought the book in 2024 for $20 from Half Price Books (HPB), which I thought was a bargain, as I’ve seen the book listed on eBay and Abebooks for over $75. HPB is a strange bookstore. It’s a chain, selling mostly used books at half price, although it does mark up collectible books, sometimes at reasonable markups, sometimes at insane prices. I recently bought Robert McCammon’s Baal, the Subterranean Press edition, from HPB for $50. The books must be listed by individual stores, as another copy of the same edition is listed for $150. I suppose it depends on the person listing the book, who then makes the decision on the price based on a certain knowledge, or maybe caprice. I’ve seen a Neil Gaiman book listed for $750, and someone actually bought it. I’ve also seen Jack Vance sets listed for $500 or more, and no doubt someone desperate enough will shell out that many dollars for those books.
When buying online, you wonder about the condition of the book. This copy of The Christmas Thingy, number 32 of 350 signed by Wilson and illustrator Alan M. Clark, arrived in great condition. The book was in a slipcase, with an inlaid slip from “Beckworth Auction” as lot number 535. This makes me wonder: why it ended up in an auction, who bought it and what did they pay for the book, and, lastly, why did it end up in Half Price Books? This particular book’s long twenty-four year trip finally ended up with me, which is a strange journey indeed. I wasn’t as lucky with the next addition…
Occasionally I’ve been lucky at HPB when shopping in the store. Many years ago I found the first edition of Dan Simmons’s book, Song of Kali, for only $5.95. Another time I found the 1984 horror anthology, Dark Forces, signed by a dozen contributors, including Stephen King, for $8.95. I’ve found a few Subterranean Press books at reasonable prices, and some I have place back on shelve after experiencing sticker shock. On other occasions I have skipped books that I regretted not picking up, or ended up with a copy of two in horrible condition, just to have a reading copy. You walk into a used bookstore with no idea of what you will find. Sometimes I walk out with an exciting book, sometimes with nothing at all. Still, while in the store, you can generally check the condition of a book.
Jack Vance is my all-time favorite writer, and I own (almost) all his books. I say almost as I don’t have any books from the Vance Integral Edition (VIE), which collects ALL his works, in the author’s preferred state and with his preferred titles. When the VIE was published I signed up for it, but when it came time to pay I didn’t think I could afford the entry price, so I dropped out. Now? Well, a price for anything VIE on the secondary marked is insane, if you can even find a complete set. Even single volumes fetch a premium (but so do the Underwood-Miller editions).
The Gray Prince appeared in hardback from Bobby-Merrill in 1974. For many years I owned only a copy of the DAW paperback edition, published in 1982. I’ve read the novel two or three times, and it really doesn’t stand out as a unique Vancian novel; rather, it follows a theme similar to several other novels: the idea that “ancient” races who see themselves as rightful owners/rulers are not so ancient after all, but others have preceded them. The cover is well done, however.
Recently, I saw an opportunity to get a hardcover version at a somewhat decent price, and so pulled the trigger on that purchase. I ordered this online from Half Price Books, the same day I ordered an F. Paul Wilson book (see below). The books arrived a week apart, so kudos to the store that shipped the Wilson book, vs. the store that shipped the Vance book. I really now only need a hardcover copy of Maske: Thaery (I do own a book club edition of this novel, but that’s not the same). Yet, I strongly wish that U-M had published editions of both books, back when they specialized in Vance’s works.
The cover of this edition is, to put it mildly, horribly generic. Still, it’s nice to replace a battered paperback copy with a broken spine. The story was originally published in Amazing Science Fiction magazine in two parts in 1974, under the title, The Domains of Koryphon. Maybe that title was restored in the VIE.
The book that I received was in poor condition: the spine was tilted and there was significant spotting on the edges of the paper. This 1974 copy did not hold up well. It’s signed by Vance, but, had I known about the condition I would not have bought it. It’s an issue with any online purchase. I’ve bought a few books online from Half Price Books, and this is the second one that’s been listed as fine, but was anything but fine.
Okay, that’s not the official title of the movie, but it’s what I call it. Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga is the 2024 sequel/prequel to Max Max: Fury Road, a movie by George Miller that came out in 2015. Nine years have passed since these two interconnected movies; Furiosa was a character in Fury Road, and she moves to the fore in this prequel movie. Many years have passed since the original trilogy. The original Max Max movie came out in 1979. It was followed by a sequel in 1981 (Mad Max 2, a very un-original title), and another in 1985 (Mad Max Beyond Thunderdome). The three first movies all starred Mel Gibson. They are set in a post-apocalyptic world in Australia, a vast continent with existing deserts and cool accents. Decades would pass before other movies in this universe would emerge. None would feature Gibson, yet they still would remain Down Under.
Mad Max: Fury Road gained a lot of great press when it came out in 2015. I saw it in the movie theaters and hated it. The trailer looked great; the movie itself was underwhelming, although many critics and web sites loved it. When Furiosa was announced I was skeptical. Could it redeem Fury Road? I went to see it with my 21-year-old daughter, who really liked Fury Road. I ended up liking it far more than Fury Road, although she felt the opposite.
The movie is divided into five chapters. The first couple of chapters begin with Furiosa as a young child. She lives in an idyllic “Green Place,” and is kidnapped by raiders and taken into the desert to the headquarters of a charismatic leader, Dr. Dementus. Furiosa’s mother tries to rescue her, yet her one moment of mercy leads to her downfall and death. The child Furiosa is traded to Immortan Joe, the big bad in Fury Road. She escapes an attempted rape, manages to hide her face as she grows up, pretending to be both male and mute, until her discovery by a rig driver, portrayed by the brilliant Tom Burke.
Alas, Dementus ruins their plans to leave to the Green Place, and Furiosa embraces vengeance, which eventually leads her back to Immortan Joe’s place, where she assumes the role of rig driver. The ending leads directly into the beginning of Fury Road.
Prequels are strange things. They face a both an existing world and a definite end. Furiosa cannot go beyond Fury Road, but must either lead up to it or end somewhat before it. In the case of Star Wars, for example, George Lucas may have thought it brilliant to name his first movie “Episode IV”, leading us to thing there were three episodes that existed prior to the movie. When the prequels came out a few years later, they underwhelmed. Most prequels suffer the same fate. The Rings of Power, for example, is largely irrelevant when compared to The Lord of the Rings. Then again, one is written by J. R. R. Tolkien, and the other by committee. And what about House of the Dragon, George R. R. Martin? It’s a prequel of sorts to his Game of Thrones, yet has garnered none of the attentions as the former series. Maybe audiences were turned off by the final season of Game of Thrones, which for all intents and purposes was a disaster. The list goes on, and on and on.
In a prior post I mentioned F. Paul Wilson’s Nightworld. This book spawned over a dozen “prequels,” in the sense that it featured characters in the same world, yet introduced new ones. In the end, Wilson rewrote Nightworld to fit in some of the new characters, change characters, and expand roles of other characters. Movies don’t have that luxury.
George Miller certainly has no such luxury, as Furiosa cannot lead to a different Fury Road. It does have a different actor, with Anya Taylor-Joy replacing Charlize Theron. The former, when she actually steps into the role almost an hour into the movie, plays her role remarkable well. She has few lines, but her performance is charismatic, powered greatly by her eyes and facial expressions.
The action scenes are great, with a focus on far fewer characters than Fury Road. I actually cared more about Furiosa’s fate in this movie, vs. Fury Road. In Fury Road, a supposedly Mad Max movie, I didn’t even care about Max himself, or any of the other characters, aside from one, and she died. Maybe that’s what made me dislike the movie. That, and the endless chase scenes that led back to the start, reducing those scenes to nothing.
Unfortunately, the box office returns for Furiosa are not good. That’s a shame. It probably means there won’t be a sequel to Fury Road, or any other moves in this saga. Exploring the Wasteland would be an interesting opportunity, but it seems that the movie-going experience is a dying one, what with all the streaming options these days.
I read F. Paul Wilson’s original hardcover edition of Nightworld, published by Dark Harvest press, back in 1992. This book was, at that time, the culmination of the Adversary Cycle. It was a sequel to Reborn and Reprisal, books also at that time published by Dark Harvest before their mass market paperback editions. Although a trilogy, there were connections to other novels, such as The Tomb, The Keep, and The Touch. Each of those three novels featured different protagonists, from Repairman Jack in The Tomb, to Glaeken in The Keep, and finally, Dr. Alan Bulmer in The Touch.
Nightworld brought them all together, for one final battle. Or so it seemed. Then, Wilson brought back Repairman Jack, starting with Legacies, and began a long series of novels featuring this fascinating anti-hero. Somehow he found a few stories in between the events of The Tomb and Nightworld. In all, he wrote around 21 novels, and so, in 2012 he released a revised and updated version of Nightworld.
Since 1992 I knew how the world ended, and so I never looked for this updated version of Nightworld. However, in the past few months I’ve picked up and read several FPW books that I previously didn’t have, and when I saw a hardcover edition of Nightworld available (“only one copy left”), I went ahead and bought it, and then read it over the span of three days.
Since the first edition of the book, many things have changed, and new characters have been introduced in FPW’s “Secret History of the World.” In the new edition of Nightworld, several of these characters show up, some briefly, and some for an extended visit. I tried, as I read this new edition, not to look up similar passages in the original. Much has been made of various “retcons” in other circumstances, for example the first Star Wars movie. Even J. R. R. Tolkien’s Hobbit was tinkered with by the author. Another books have “the author’s definitive text” stamped on them—there was an entire collection of books by Jack Vance created to bring out his definitive texts, the Vance Integral Edition. Is that so bad? Well, we all know that Han Solo shot first, despite what George Lucas does, but what about the written text? Sometimes authors see the hand of editors, and they want their own text “restored.”
In the case of Nightworld, it was more the case of FPW adding new stuff. In some cases, this did expand on the existing novel. In other cases, there were some disappointments. One major side character, the actuator from the secret society called the Septimus Order, one Ernst Drexler, died in a most trivial and disappointing way. The fate of major characters didn’t change much. Repairman Jack himself didn’t feel like a major character in this novel; it definitely was an ensemble novel. Still, for the most part Jack was there to worry about his mate, and not actually do stuff, aside from a simple errand. A page by page analysis would show more changes, but I chose in this instance to ignore my memory.
Wilson never wrote any novels set after the events of Nightworld. After all, what do you do when the world has ended, and then somehow was restarted? And now, in 2024, it appears that FPW will write no more novels, as a stroke has affected his writing. Some people who read the original edition, either as a Dark Harvest book or a paperback, may hesitate to read the expanded edition, or might have a preference for the original. After all, it took me over three decades between books, so maybe I counted myself among that group for a while. Still, I don’t feel that the newer edition was any lesser than the original. If anything, I liked the Repairman Jack novels, and somewhat wish there wasn’t an “end-of-the-world” novel like Nightworld to put a stop to them all. But, I didn’t see this version as something that ruined the earlier experience.
That being said, there are plenty of Repairman Jack novels to enjoy (or hate, if you don’t like what happen to certain characters in some of the novels) aside from Nightworld. It’s a shame we don’t know what happened to some of the characters Jack encountered (as easter eggs) in this updated version, but we can always imagine that they survived.
Finally, my collection of hardcover books from Golden Gryphon is complete! For many years I lacked just one novel, Sheila Finch’s The Guild of Xenolinguists, published in 2007 by Golden Gryphon Press. This was number 52 in their 62-book hardcover series, which ran from 1997 through 2010. For many years James Turner was their editor, until his untimely death in 1999. After his death, the publisher remained in business only a few more years, finally folding in 2017, although the last hardcover appeared in 2010. In that time they managed to publish 62 hardover books, and a few softcover editions. Each hardcover bore a number, and for many years #52 has been absent from my collection. Until now.
Jim Turner, for many years, had been an editor at Arkham House, where he oversaw some great books, including several collections that were more science fiction than horror. Maybe Arkham House wanted to see horror instead of SF, and Turner left. Maybe there were other reasons. Still, after his departure Arkham House floundered and then went dormant. I think it was their loss that he left, but our gain that Golden Gryphon published so many great books by fantastic authors. Several authors had multiple books published by Golden Gryphon, all in a similar format, with out-of-this world covers.
Finch’s novel has been somewhat hard for me to find. Several copies online are listed for $50 or more, but I found one recently for around $20, and it even was signed. I waited for the book on tenterhooks. Would it be in decent condition, or would the spine lean or markings made inside the book? Would it be a former library book, or have someone’s bookplate? When you buy online, these are constant worries. For the most part, I have been been happy with online purchases, but a couple of times I have not received what I expected. Once, I thought a book was an Arkham House edition, but it was under the Mycroft Moran imprint, and there was a glued-in bookplate. Two other times, the books were shrink-wrapped, and arrived with spotting on the top pages. Since then, I have been wary of shrink-wrapped books from the 1990s, at least by that publisher.
However, Uncle Hugo came through, and I’m thrilled to finally have a complete Golden Gryphon hardcover collection. I’ve read most of the 62 books by the publisher (63 if I could a trade paperback edition of a Joe R. Lansdale book). Those that I haven’t read now get added to my To Be Read list, which already is massive.
I’m thrilled to have this collection of books finally complete. Now I just need to figure out a way to shelve them properly, since they span two and half rows in a bookshelf. Someone once asked me why I group my books in a certain way. There is no set order. In some cases, I group together all books by a writer. In others, by a publisher. The top writers usually end up on eye level, and the lesser ones at the bottom of the bookshelf. But, I keep moving them around. In this case, all Golden Gryphon books are grouped together, spanning two and a half rows on a bookshelf, and ordered alphabetically by author.
A trio of FPW books, one more in the Author’s Choice Monthly series from the early 1990s by Pulphouse Publishing, and novella by Lucius Shepard.
The Void Protocol, F. Paul Wilson, Forge 2019. Bought at near list price, this is the third book in a trilogy that started with the novel Panacea. It’s been a few years since I read Panacea, so I know little to nothing about this series. For many years I didn’t even know it was a series, as none of the follow-up novels appeared any local bookstores. Then again, with fewer options out there, at least where I live (even in one of the ten largest cities in the US), finding a copy from some authors in a local bookstore seems almost impossible. I’m not sure if I need to first re-read Panacea to get into the second and third installments. Hard to believe it’s been just a few years since I read Panacea, as I remember virtually nothing.
The God Gene, F. Paul Wilson, Forge 2018. The second book in the trilogy with Panacea and The Void Protocol. I list them out or order as this is the order in which they arrived. Although I ordered The God Gene and The Void Protocol on the exact same day, they arrived nearly two weeks apart. Such are the vagaries of the United States Postal Service, I guess. An avid collector might have gone with the Gauntlet Press editions, but since I already had the Tor Forge copy of Panacea, I went with the mass market hardcover editions to make my set complete. I have several limited editions of FPW’s books, but I’m not super picky.
Mirage, F. Paul Wilson and Matthew J. Costello, Warner Books, 1996. Many years ago (possibly back in 1998 when it first was published and we had a decent selection of bookstores, before the internet and economic troubles crushed so many of them), I read Masque, the other collaboration between Wilson (not Abbott) and Costello.
Somehow, I never could find a copy of Mirage, a medical thriller was written before Masque. This year I finally gave up on seeing it in any used book store and bought a copy that I saw online (see above quest to acquire all F. Paul Wilson novels). This copy is signed by both Wilson and Costello. Not something I’d reject, and maybe even a bonus, plus the book’s in a great condition. Having read the first couple chapters, so far it comes across quite strongly in Wilson’s voice, although I think I can detect a difference when Costello takes a turn.
Since I recently discovered that there were a handful of F. Paul Wilson books published that I’d missed upon their initial publication, I’ve become determined to find and acquire those missing books. After these three F. Paul Wilson books, I think only four of his solo novels remain that I need to find, as well as some collaborations and other appearances.
I also picked two non-FPW books, one I’d been looking for a long time, and another that was an impulse buy.
The Father of Stones, Lucius Shepard, Washington Science Fiction Association, 1988. Lately, I’ve been reading some of Shepard’s early stories, and so I’m now keeping an eye out for titles that I don’t have. This small volume was an impulse purchase. Released in an edition of 500, this copy is number 112, signed by Shepard and slipcased. I’m sure it’s been collected somewhere in some other volume (or volumes) of his short stories, but in the meantime this was an attractive book, and sometimes you need to leave room for the simple stuff. It’s just one story, much like The Scalehunter’s Beautiful Daughter (and it’s the same size of that story when it published as a stand-along book).
Wong’s Lost and Found Emporium and Other Oddities, William F. Wu, Pulphouse Publishing, June 1992. This book is #28 in the Author’s Choice Monthly series from Pulphouse Publishing, and the second to last in the that series. It’s one that I hesitated to buy. Not because I didn’t want it, but when I started accumulating the author’s choice monthly series, I went for the unsigned paperbacks. By mistake, I bought the Charles de Lint book in hardcover. Then I bought a second in hardcover, as I could not find any copies of the paperback. I also could not find copies of William F. Wu’s book in paperback, so when I found the hardcover at a reasonable price, I thought, “Why Not?” This is strange, as far more paperback copies were supposedly printed than the hardcovers.
Maybe I’ll end up switching the 25 paperbacks in my library at some point with hardcover editions. Or, maybe the set remains uneven. Nevertheless, I now lack only one book in the series. So far, the copies I’ve seen of that title are ones with prices well outside my allotted budget. Will my collection come to a halt at 28 out of the 29 books? Perhaps. After all, how can I call myself a haphazard collector if I acquire all copies in this series?
It’s interesting that Pulphouse changed the formats of its covers. Most of the books featured a prominent portrait of the the author, with some background illustrations. For the second to last and last books (Wu and Suzy McKee Charnas), there was a drastic change in the cover. And then, after those two books, the series folded, and the publisher essentially collapsed.
Could someone pick up a similar project? probably not. A monthly series with books in this format is hard for any publisher and editor to sustain. Borderlands Press, with their Little Book series, might be the only small press publisher out there who dares follow a similar format. While Pulphouse released the books in three states—paperback, hardback, and leather—each in fewer copies, Borderlands limits itself to a single format, and usually 500 copies (with a handful of exceptions). And they’ve been doing this for 20 plus years.
