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SASSAFRASS Roots, the Rules
of Outlaw Fandom, and Scalzi’s Redshirts
In the years following the
1968 Berkeley World Science Fiction/Westercon (Baycon), Happy Jack and I found
ourselves attending Sacramento State College.
We linked up with a few other like-minded folk (including my partner on
this blog), began searching out “mainstream” fans in the area, and slowly
developed an approach and attitude towards the field that was somewhat
skeptical and antagonistic. We wouldn’t
attend another convention together until four years later (though HJ attended
the 1971 Westercon solo, where he met super fan Dale Gobel and super fan artist
Scott McLeod), but in the meantime, we cobbled together an identity and
approach to the field we called “Outlaw Fandom”.
The Rules of Outlaw Fandom
were simple:
- You do not talk about Outlaw Fandom.
- You do not pay to attend conventions.
- Life is “living science-fiction” right here, right now; act accordingly.
- Respect what’s real and mock what isn’t (and decide for yourself which is which).
- As sci-fi god Kurt Vonnegut says, “God damn it, you’ve got to be kind” (inasmuch as #4 will allow).
- Don’t be afraid of a little dancin’ and drinkin'.
Outlaw Fandom was a covert splinter
group within Sacramento fandom’s most nefarious organization, the Sacramento
Area Super Science And Fantasy Reading And Study Society (SASSAFRASS,
established circa 1973), which is celebrating its 40th anniversary
this year. Though most of its members
pretty much regarded Outlaw Fandom with utter contempt and disavowed many of
its activities, both factions managed to (barely) “get along” for almost a
decade. More on this next time.
When a book blurb extols the
hee-haw-larious nature of the novel inside, I will generally drop it without a second thought. Most supposedly funny
things aren’t funny to me. Most
“sitcoms” and modern film comedies are tedious bores. I can’t stand most comedians; they are not
funny. Please don’t tell me a joke – if
I laugh, it is probably because I think you’re ridiculous, or I may be
attempting politeness. Etc. So I started my second 2013 Hugo novel, John
Scalzi’s Redshirts, with extreme trepidation. When I finished Chapter Nine, page 105,
yesterday afternoon, I was so convulsed with guffaws and surprise that I had to
use every ounce of self-restraint I had not to wake up my sleeping father in
the next room. So far, Scalzi’s writing
is pitch-perfect for what he’s trying to pull off, the story holds your
interest from the start, and we’re taking a walk on the wild side to be
sure. No, there aren’t one-liners on
every page, and really, to me so far, it’s shaping up to be much more than a
“comic” sci-fi novel, but folks, if it continues like it started, and Scalzi can pull
this off, there's a major thumbs up ahead.
WARNING: The less you know about this book, the better. Do not attempt to find out anything about
it. If I find it is ultimately worth reading,
I will tell you, but you DON’T WANT TO KNOW ANYTHING BEFOREHAND!
To Be Continued
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