Easter eggs for Midwinter Christmas?

Gosh, look at that date creeping up. The night air is chill in Sydney at the moment and it reminds me that i usually have my plans for Midwinter Christmas well underway - but this year I haven't secured a suitable date, or even an invitation list. It looks like the celebration may well pass me by this year. Sigh...

Over on TrekBBS, I've been discussing two aspects of Star Trek novels that many people find very frustrating.

Firstly, one debate that rages, on and off, is the perception that licensed TV tie-in novels are somehow inferior because they must take their lead from the parent/source material (ie. live-action Star Trek episodes and movies, as aired), and that new readers are discouraged from reading them. Or, there is the almost-opposing perception that inter-continuity between ST novels is so tight that the supposed result is the same: ie. that new readers are discouraged from reading them.

Now, I must add that I'm very happy with the status quo because the modern ST novels, as a whole, seem to be at a peak of quality at the moment: solid storytelling in very generous chunks, and plenty of variety. my main beef is that I've fallen so far behind, mainly because I spend so much time here (ie. online). Of course, there are others who strongly disgree, and claim that the heyday of the ST tie-in is long gone.

One poster complained about "Easter eggs", those wonderful little in-jokes and bits of trivia that ST writers will seed through their work, either to provide avid fans (and themselves) with amusement, or to provide some inter-continuity between the novels, short stories and comics in unobtrusive ways. I mean, if an Easter egg is so obscure that you don't recognise it, why even worry if it might be there?

Surely, it's all a matter of personal taste? For every reference that has ever annoyed one fan, or passed unnoticed by their geek radar, another fan has acclaimed, "Hey cool!" And vice versa. Some references I might not have cared for might have been significant for them. For example, I never care if an author says Warp 5 for a three-day trip when it should be Warp 7, but some fans actually do these calculations. Ditto stardate inconsistencies. Different strokes... etc.

I'm happy to know that the Easter egg references (if I actually notice them) were significant enough for the author that they were included. For example, I can always tell which ST novelists are fans of Filmation's animated ST series (TAS), since they are usually the only ones to reference TAS events and people in the novels. An author calling a shuttlecraft the Fontana is probably a fan of DC Fontana's work on the ST TV series. "Vanguard" novel titles are named after "Rush" songs - whoever "Rush" might be? - and so on. One doesn't have to buy "Rush" CDs to enjoy the "Vanguard" novels, and one doesn't have to watch or know TAS, or read Peter David's "Star Trek: New Frontier", if a new ST novel or comic contains an obscure (to some) TAS or NF reference.

I challenged one poster to give examples of where references to other ST books have been "too gratuitous and/or uncool", and his response was to say that he was cancelling plans to buy any of the recently-announced TOS tie-in novels in 2009 and 2010. Gosh, my apologies to the ST novel writers! Looks like I managed to scare away one of their customers by disputing his disdain of Easter eggs in ST novels? (Guess I'll have to buy two of everything due in 2009 and 2010 now... Maybe there's still time? Eradicate all Easter eggs now!)



A different poster complained about which ST novels were targeted for reprint in trade-sized omnibuses. Of course, reprints are not made in an effort to gamble that the reprint will create a possible resurgence of interest. They are a response to the laws of supply and demand. Not enough demand, no supply.

There are many, many out-of-print ST novels out there. The ones that do get re-presented in some form are reprinted because their original sales figures were excellent and it is hoped they'll perform well again - to a new audience who might have missed them the first time. (ie. The four first "Rhiannsu" books, reprinted just in time for one, new, oft-delayed conclusion, "The Empty Chair".)

I suggested that a quick browse in a large second hand bookshop would uncover the mass market paperbacks he was looking for. I find it really hard to believe that London, UK, has less second hand bookstores than Sydney. (While our second hand stores have slowly vanished over recent decades, especially from the CBD, I still know about four with huge ST sections.)

A lot of second hand sellers have gone exclusively online these days. Sure, some ST novels are perceived as "rare" ("Mission: Gamma #1" before the recent trade paperback omnibus reprint) and command high prices, but I'm sure most ST titles would be quite reasonable online. Often, the postage is higher than the cost of the book. And online searching is so efficient!

It's called the "thrill of the hunt". I guess it's not for everyone? I did it - the hard way - for my first four or five years of collecting in the early 80s (every Thursday night and Saturday morning, for many months at a time, until all the shops knew me by name or at least reputation, and they'd often "save" things for me!) - and, you know, I still pick up the odd gap in my collection, but now using Steve Roby's Complete ST Library listings and the online searching facilities of Amazon.

These days many second hand stores have their entire collection on a database and, even if browsing in the bricks 'n' mortar stores, the managers can often tell you, as you walk in, whether the book is somewhere inside! As for early Pocket ST novels, many of these were on the bestseller lists, were kept "in print" for ages, and are in larger quantities than one might imagine. Every ST novel turns up somewhere, sometime! It's the thrill of the hunt to find the right title, in the right condition, and at the right price.

Glee in Glebe on a Saturday

Today had such a nice, relaxed, nostalgic feel to it, and the only annoyance was the crazy bumper-to-bumper traffic that seemed to be everywhere - all afternoon! so much for the petrol prices everyone complains about.

It's been a while since I've been to inner-city Glebe - but I wanted to gather up some reasonably priced Aboriginal & Torres Strait Islander children's books for school/work, and past experience had told me that Gleebooks is usually the best port of call for these items. The staff were so helpful - at one point I had three staff members scurrying around at my whim - and any chance to wander through their children's and second hand collections is a pleasure. ("You can smell the shop before you get there", to quote - loosely - the line from "84 Charing Cross Road".) Because that store is at the opposite end of Glebe Point Road to their other bookstore, it meant that Jack and I had a great stroll past all the amazingly eclectic curio shops and cafes in between. And - more colourful than ever: Glebe Saturday markets in the grounds of the primary school. Jack found lots of happy, friendly, Glebe doggies to touch noses with.

Gleebooks also had three of the CBCA (Children's Book Council of Australia) shortlisted books I've been after. Thanks to the shop's trusty computer cataloguing, they identified that three of my elusive (ie. "awaiting reprint") needs were sitting, forgotten, on shelves somewhere in the well-stocked shelves! Every year it's like a crazy little hide 'n' seek game I love to play: how quickly can I round up all of the shortlisted titles for the school library. Thanks to Gleebooks today, my search is almost over for 2008. (Of course, but the time Book Week comes along, all of the books will be freely available in most bookshops - but I want to use them in my teaching in the lead up to Book Week in Term Three, not after the event.)

It's a shame so many of the Glebe stores are vacant now, victims of the nearby Broadway Centre shopping mall that has evolved from the old Grace Bros buildings. Where Grace Bros and Glebe shops had survived, almost side-by-side for decades, so harmoniously, it now seems like the might of the all-inclusive air-conditioned mall has done its job and killed off a lot of the life from the street shopping strip.
i recall in the 70s and 80s, people waited for restaurateurs to die before they could rent an empty shop in Glebe!

For three years (1977-1979), I spent many an afternoon or lunch break strolling through Grace Bros at Broadway, eventually venturing further afield into Glebe and its amazing shops, during my years at the Guild Teachers College. Then, for a while in the late 80s and early 90s, it was worth going back to Glebe Point Road every so often just to see what was for sale in weird shops like Half a Cow (now long gone) and second hand bookshops such as Cornstalk Books.

I've also been squealing with delight over some recent Amazon online purchases. The official soundtrack album of "Ironman", a few tricky-to-find old science fiction paperbacks (postage will be more than the $1 or so for the book, but who cares - I found them at last!), and some television rarities on DVD. Yes - I'm a happy shopper in both real and virtual bookshops.

For all the criticism that goes on about Amazon, such as odd quirks in their product descriptions, I still think they do an amazing job. It has become such a comprehensive website - with all their links to the international second hand and remaindered markets - that it's a rare thing to seek out a book (from any era) and not be able to get any leads. I can forgive their sometimes-bizarre semi-automated computer listings any errors that inevitably creep in. My days of haunting bricks 'n' mortar bookshops, week after week, on fruitless searches for impossible-to-find-stuff are mostly gone. Now when I go into such a store I can browse at leisure, not search frantically.

There is also a recent exciting eBay purchase, but I'll save that story for when it arrives from Melbourne - hopefully Monday - by registered post.

The Coincidence Files

Well, what a coincidence! Only this morning, I posted that weird coincidence that happened in the little town of Mogo. I was getting ready to post a second coincidence that happened in that same shop, and was wondering whether I should make it a second entry for today, or wait a few more minutes (till midnight) and make it tomorrow's post instead.

Then, coincidentally, I happened upon Nash's "Coincidence Files" blog entry, where he invited others to add their own coincidence anecdotes. Oooh, spooky.

So, here goes... In about 1968, one of the kids at school (we were in 4th Class) had a great issue of "The Flintstones" comic, which featured the introduction of The Gruesomes family (ie. Weirdly, Creepella and little Goblin, and their pet, Schneider the spider), who move into the same street as the Flintstones and the Rubbles. I'd only recently seen an episode with these characters on TV, and we had immediately realised that the prehistoric Gruesomes were an obvious satire on the live action series, "The Addams Family", which had begun airing in the same US TV season as "The Munsters" (1964). Weirdly Gruesome was very reminiscent of Gomez Addams, Creepella was like Morticia, and Gobby was rather like Pugsley. (Weirdly and Creepella were also uncannily similar to comedy/singing duo, Sonny & Cher!)

Now, 1968 was about about six years before any schools or public libraries had photocopiers, so if another kid had a comic you coveted, but was unwilling to agree to a trade of precious merchandise, then there was really no way you were ever going to own that particular comic. "The Flintstones" were really big in Australia in 1968; we all pestered our Mums to buy only Nabisco's "Weeties" for breakfast, as the pop-up Flintstones trading cards were only available as premiums in that cereal.

I convinced my friend, Vito, to lend me the comic for a few days/weeks, as its "origin" storyline really intrigued me. My young aunt had just left high school and was teaching herself to type, so I asked her if she'd consider using the comic as typing practice. I supplied her with a coil-bound stenographer's pad someone had given me and asked her to type up the speech balloons, leaving a few spaces for pictures.

I hadn't considered that the pages had to be torn from the binding to be inserted into the typewriter, and I also hadn't realised my aunt would only put one comic frame's speech bubble per sheet of paper. Therefore, Janice ran out of pages in no time, and had to supply a second steno pad (of slightly different dimensions) to complete the script. Although I was really grateful that she'd actually completed the bizarre task I'd set her, the end result meant that there were now hundreds of drawings needed! Needless to say, after one or two drawings, my enthusiasm petered right out, and the pile of unbound papers eventually ended up forgotten on the bottom of the toy box.

So, anyway, last month I visited that same aunt, now living in Nowra. It was a long-promised return visit, as January 1976 was the last time I'd been down her way! I entertained her with many anecdotes about the good ol' days, but she was often amazed that my brain remembered such obscure things in great detail. Our conversations meandered off on tangents often and, although I'd planned to mention the wacky typing assignment I'd given her in 1968, the topic got changed several times more and I didn't ever get to that story.

That very afternoon, I ended up in quaint little Mogo on the way home. And, in that same second hand bookshop I blogged about this morning, there it was... a hardcover picture book for just $4.00: "The Flintstones Meet the Gruesomes" (1965). Strange, but true. And a bargain at any price, I reckon.


The Flintstones Meet the Gruesomes

By the way, one of the first times I ran dry on ideas for blog entries, when I first started blogging, I threatened to tell a very different, weird coincidence story, and I don't think I've ever gotten around to writing it up - mainly because it's genuine "Twilight Zone" material, and still spooks the hell out of me - but maybe I'll write up that one as well...

The thrill of the hunt! Part 1

Since February 1977, I have headed into Sydney's Central Business District (CBD) for Thursday "late night" shopping, as it used to be called when it first came in (and the concept of extended shopping hours was still quite the novelty).

I had just started a three year, full-time course at the Guild Teachers College, now long since absorbed into Sydney College of Advanced Education and then the University of Sydney.

Where did I head on these great nights of exploration? Bookshops!

Do you remember when Sydney's CBD was filled with a wonderful array of second hand, new and/or quirky specialist bookshops: the orderly A-Z Bookshop, where I first discovered UK and US printings of the animated Star Trek adaptations; the Sydney Book Exchange (where I once found cheap mint condition copies of "Starlog" magazine, #1-24, alongside stacks of plastic-sealed kinky porn); tiny, subterranean The Pocket Bookshop, with a lone cardboard Dalek silently guarding the top of the stairs (not being able to descend them, I suppose); Mary Martin Bookshop (where I tried for a job in 1980, but Mrs Martin turned me down 'cos she knew I was awaiting a permanent teaching position); the wonderful Galaxy Bookshop (now in its fourth location, and still going strong); New Era, near Chinatown, where I found cheap, new Star Trek "Fotonovels"; the wonderfully messy, split level Gould's Book Arcade; the original, poky, little upstairs location of The Land Beyond Beyond in the Crystal Palace Arcade, above the original, amazing Ava & Susan's Records; Hoyt's Entertainment Centre Bookshop, which carried movie tie-in stuff I'd never seen anywhere else before (but that shop eventually turned into a Granny May's collectibles store, and then a Baskin-Robbins ice-creamery); eclectic Abbey's; and the fascinating media section of the Tank Stream Arcade Bookshop; to name just a few. Sigh...



Why did I commit to a traditional weekly pilgrimage - which continues in almost-unbroken pattern, to this very day? Well, going on a hunt for books every Thursday night is the most effective way I still know to ensure one sees new books as they are released. Sure, one can order in books, so long as they are new or in-print, but there's no guarantee it won't come in elsewhere while waiting in vain - sometimes prepaid. And sure, one can order via Amazon (hey, the new Amazon re-sellers' market is amazing - finally I can track second hand books internationally - by title or author, or publisher, or even a vague, half-remembered description!) Or one can try one's luck with eBay (but that's another blog entry entirely).

Nothing beats the thrill of the hunt. Even better if you find something that you had no idea you were even looking for. Nothing used to beat that feeling of walking down the steps of the A-Z Bookshop, glancing to their Star Trek section across the room, and realizing that an additional (red) spine could be discerned on the now-very-familiar shelves of second hand books. Yes, it was 1980 or 1981, and I'd just spied a rare, early edition of Bantam's "Spock Must Die!" by James Blish.

And, for bitter-disappointment-turned-to-ecstacy, practically nothing beats the night I was in Galaxy Bookshop when David Gerrold's brand new "The Galactic Whirlpool" had been put out on the shelves. Anticipating it from a few sample chapters in "Starlog", I picked up the Star Trek novel - quickly swapped it for the least-damaged, most-pristine copy... when all the lights went out, and we were floundering around in the dark!

Shayne McCormack, the then-manager, announced something like, "I'm sorry everyone. The till isn't working and I'll have to ask you to put down your books and leave the store. As there would only be another hour of trading, it's unlikely we'll be back up and running again tonight, so I'll see you next time."

Luckily, I'd swung back past the shop about 20 minutes later, and they'd been able to restore power and reopen after all - so I grabbed my copy of TGW anew and hastened over to pay for it.

Creating a traditional weekly pilgrimage - and sticking to it - quickly made me known to the various owners, managers, and shop assistants. Without even asking, sometimes they'd order something in for me, figuring I'd want it. Or they'd hide something especially fun under the front counter and surprise me with their thoughtfulness. I am grateful also to the other stores that have sprung up to keep me commuting the distance into the CBD just to buy books (and toys, DVD, and everything else): Comic Kingdom; Kings Comics; Borders; Angus & Robertson; Dymocks; and so many more...

The Internet really takes a bit/lot of the fun out of hunting for new and used, must-have, collectible books. I'm not complaining because, through the Internet, I've found some of my most important collector's items. But there's something to be said about the good ol' days of knowing only that a new science fiction media tie-in title is due, but you've only heard rumours as to title, author, cover art, blurb, size, due date, and so on.

Now if only I can find time to actually read everything I've bought over the years...