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In the 1950s, a group of young science fiction writers, dreaming of literary immortality and calling themselves the Lanthanides, buried a time capsule with their stories and relics from the time. Now, in the 1990s, when several of them have become famous, the surviving Lanthanides are getting together at a special convention to dig up the capsule and open it. But the convention is startled by the appearance of a writer who was supposed to have died thirty years ago. Then murder materializes to throw the agenda further into chaos. Now, Jay Omega, author of Bimbos of the Death Sun, and his significant other, Dr. Marion Farley, must separate science fact from fiction -- and unearth a killer with a story of his own to tell.… (altro)
3 stars This book while published in 1992 brought right back to the late 1980’s of computer bulletin board systems the precursors of the internet and science fiction conventions I have attended. Back then being a geek/nerd/SF fan didn’t have the same cachet that it has today. The mystery is almost nonexistent, the murder doesn’t occur until late in the book then Jay and Marion solve the case in a few chapters jay with his Tandy 1400HD 12 lb laptop and Marion by running around the hotel and interviewing suspects.
Don’t read this for the mystery, read it for the nostalgia of 80’s SF conventions, fanzines, fan culture and old computers.
This mystery novel is not about the mystery, really.
Sure, there's a murder. Off-screen. The edition I read is 274 pages long; the body is found on page 181 and it's only know to be a murder on page 242. But don't get me wrong, there IS a mystery, but it's really all about the protagonist(s) exploring and exposing the deep past of fantasy/sci fi fandom and exposing the truths.
Yep, this is another great book, if you might enjoy reading about a one-time science fiction writer who would rather be an engineering prof, and the love of his life, the English prof who grew up a fangirl, but has (mostly) matured.
The first book in this series took place at a science fiction convention, as they existed in the 80s/early90s. And it also focused more around the environment and characters you'd get in such a setting. This book has a group of Industry pros/pro-fans from the 50s who get together to open a time capsule they'd buried way back when. Then a supposedly-dead member of their group turns up and hints at his intent to dig up long-buried secrets, alongside the capsule.
A fun read. McCrumb has, both times, transported me to a situation I'll never be able to participate in. Fun, relaxing... a get-away read, for me. ( )
Just as enjoyable as Bimbos of the Death Sun. McCrumb has a great sense of humor, and the interweaving of fandom, nostalgia, sci-fi is pretty impressive. It never really took off for me, but I think I wasn't paying attention properly to each individual character. If anything, I wanted the book to be longer which is always a good sign! ( )
The sequel to [b:Bimbos of the Death Sun|471512|Bimbos of the Death Sun|Sharyn McCrumb|http://photo.goodreads.com/books/1175035012s/471512.jpg|459808], though not any better. McCrumb has invented her own science fiction fandom--the same basics (zines, conventions, BNFs) but with made-up authors and terms. Her characters are uninteresting, her humor is forced, and the fictional fandom is painful to read. Also, sadly dated. It's an ok read, but I'd hardly recommend it. ( )
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(Chapter 1) Even death will not release you. An expression of the Los Angeles Science Fiction Society, ca. 1949
(Chapter 2) Just like a Daugherty project, except that it will actually happen . . . --Francis Towner Laney An expression of anticipation in Fifth Fandom
(Chapter 3) For three months gravity feeds the main sluice pulled nightly at the dam. The reservoir drains. Each afternoon he stops on the bluff to watch the valley fill with air, light wrapping the fine branches of trees rising from the surface full-grown but leafless, though no wind has blown for thirty-seven years. --Don Johnson Watauga Drawdown
(Chapter 4) Fans are always at their best in letters, and I took them at their self-stated value. --Francis Towner Laney "Ah, Sweet Idiocy"
(Chapter 5) Real Soon Now -- When the MSFS/DSFL was going to have: a convention, a decent fanzine, an active membership, a properly run meeting, and many other fine things that didn't quite happen. --Fancyclopedia II
(Chapter 6) In the town's open grave he lies under star spillage, bone cold and sore, thinking his way home. --Don Johnson Watauga Drawdown
(Chapter 7) . . . One family returns every year on Memorial Day to row out and sink a wreath on what they think is the ancestral burial plot. But one of the older boys admits that he thinks an aging uncle confused the spot with his favorite fishing hole and they have for years been honoring a living channel cat. --Don Johnson "The Mayor of Butler"
(Chapter 8) Pseuicide -- The fannish term for faking someone's death. Since most of fandom is conducted by mail, hoaxes are relatively easy to perpetrate.
(Chapter 9) Why have you come here to this place you say you never liked, where mockingbirds read your mind . . . --Don Johnson "The House in the Woods" from Watauga Drawdown
(Chapter 10) Where fuggheadedness is the norm, no one can be blamed for falling into occasional fuggheaded lapses. But constant association with fuggheads inures us. Our threshold of receptivity for fuggheadedness becomes dangerously high. It takes a titanic and overwhelming piece of asininity to rise above the background and strike us. . . . I'd been away from fans too long, I guess. My fuggheadedness threshold was extremely low -- too low to protect me. --Francis Towner Laney Fan-Dango 21
(Chapter 11) Ever a Stormy Petrel Unto Us --Francis Towner Laney's epitaph in fandom. (The term is used figuratively for one whose coming always portends trouble.)
(Chapter 12) He wanted to pound on their doors, call them out in their housecoats and frowsy pajamas, and tell them in clear words that time buries itself like a river under a lake that river feeds, that though the past is irretrievable, nothing left down there is gone. --Don Johnson Watauga Drawdown
(Chapter 13) The chief reason I am writing these memoirs is to try to get you, and you, and you to face your own personal problems like men instead of like fans, get you out of the drugging microcosm, and triumph over whatever is keeping you in fandom. --Francis Towner Laney "Ah, Sweet Idiocy"
(Chapter 14) He could see himself in six months, afloat on the refilled Watauga, where the drowned swim forever. . . . --Don Johnson Watauga Drawdown
Dedica
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To Michael Dobson, the State of Franklin Science Fiction Society, and Francis Towner Laney.
With thanks to Don Johnson, for the use of Watauga Drawdown.
Incipit
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Jay Omega decided to wait until the shouting stopped before he knocked.
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In the 1950s, a group of young science fiction writers, dreaming of literary immortality and calling themselves the Lanthanides, buried a time capsule with their stories and relics from the time. Now, in the 1990s, when several of them have become famous, the surviving Lanthanides are getting together at a special convention to dig up the capsule and open it. But the convention is startled by the appearance of a writer who was supposed to have died thirty years ago. Then murder materializes to throw the agenda further into chaos. Now, Jay Omega, author of Bimbos of the Death Sun, and his significant other, Dr. Marion Farley, must separate science fact from fiction -- and unearth a killer with a story of his own to tell.
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5
This book while published in 1992 brought right back to the late 1980’s of computer bulletin board systems the precursors of the internet and science fiction conventions I have attended. Back then being a geek/nerd/SF fan didn’t have the same cachet that it has today.
The mystery is almost
Don’t read this for the mystery, read it for the nostalgia of 80’s SF conventions, fanzines, fan culture and old computers.
Cozies Reading Challenge (