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Funtasy, v. 1, issue 1, Supplement 1, 1939
Page 4
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FUNTASY WHY DID I GET MIXED UP WITH SCIENCE-FICTION by Walter Sullivan "Once I was happy, but now I'm forlorn, Since I discovered S-F, I wish I hadn't been born." I know it's putrid poetry, but that is what science-fiction does to me. I used to be happy and carefree, but look at me now. Perhaps it would be better if you did not. I jump every time I hear a noise, my eyes are blood-shot, and worst of all, my pockets are perpetually devoid of that phantom material known as money. I never seem to keep it very long during those few intervals at which I acquire it. (How true, how true! ed.) Let this be a warning to any unfortunate human who is just becoming interested in science-fiction. How was I to know what it was to lead to when I bought my first science-fiction magazine? I was happy for the first few years, you know. They say ignorance is bliss. I know it was true in my case. I bought the science-fiction mags, and then threw them away! (Ooooh! ed.) Later I began saving them for some unknown reason. Little did I know that the bug had bitten me. Then came the dark day when I saw a letter in a pro magazine in which the writer offered a free copy of his fan magazine to anyone who would write for it. Said I to myself, 'If it's free, why not get one?' 'Right', I answered, and did. I had taken the fatal step. I had discovered the fan field. After reading that first fan mag, I subscribed to others that advertised in it, and subscribed to others that advertised in them, and subscribed to others that advertised in those! And so on.... Then I began to buy up all the back issues of pro and fan mags I could find, and hoarding them like a miser. I gave up ice-cream and candy. I saved money by not eating lunch in school. I seldom went to a show, except of course sfn. epics. I no longer spent money foolishly, (?) but spent it all on more science-fiction mags. I put my magazines in my bookcase; I stacked them on shelves; when I ran out of shelves, I put them in boxes, and when I ran out of boxes, I put them on the floor. My room became known in the wormdom as 'Bookworm Heaven"; I support the largest bookworm colony in the country. The way they go at my mags. would make you think they had a gov't charter. Come to think of it, maybe they have. I lost most of my friends because I screamed at them every time they handled one of my magazines roughly. I was constantly getting those little slips in my mags. that say: Your subscription expires with this issue. All the time new magazines were coming out! After I lost all my friends, I joined a chapter of the SFL, where I could meet other geniuses (again ?) like myself. Little did I know what I was getting into. Most of the members were editing fan mags, and of course, I subscribed to them all. I was made a member of a committee and all kinds of work fell on me. I was talked against my will into writing stories and articles. I spent so much time on science-fiction that I failed all my exams in school, and did not graduate. But, do you think I could get out--of course not. Then more pro mags. began to come out: STARTLING, STRANGE,
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FUNTASY WHY DID I GET MIXED UP WITH SCIENCE-FICTION by Walter Sullivan "Once I was happy, but now I'm forlorn, Since I discovered S-F, I wish I hadn't been born." I know it's putrid poetry, but that is what science-fiction does to me. I used to be happy and carefree, but look at me now. Perhaps it would be better if you did not. I jump every time I hear a noise, my eyes are blood-shot, and worst of all, my pockets are perpetually devoid of that phantom material known as money. I never seem to keep it very long during those few intervals at which I acquire it. (How true, how true! ed.) Let this be a warning to any unfortunate human who is just becoming interested in science-fiction. How was I to know what it was to lead to when I bought my first science-fiction magazine? I was happy for the first few years, you know. They say ignorance is bliss. I know it was true in my case. I bought the science-fiction mags, and then threw them away! (Ooooh! ed.) Later I began saving them for some unknown reason. Little did I know that the bug had bitten me. Then came the dark day when I saw a letter in a pro magazine in which the writer offered a free copy of his fan magazine to anyone who would write for it. Said I to myself, 'If it's free, why not get one?' 'Right', I answered, and did. I had taken the fatal step. I had discovered the fan field. After reading that first fan mag, I subscribed to others that advertised in it, and subscribed to others that advertised in them, and subscribed to others that advertised in those! And so on.... Then I began to buy up all the back issues of pro and fan mags I could find, and hoarding them like a miser. I gave up ice-cream and candy. I saved money by not eating lunch in school. I seldom went to a show, except of course sfn. epics. I no longer spent money foolishly, (?) but spent it all on more science-fiction mags. I put my magazines in my bookcase; I stacked them on shelves; when I ran out of shelves, I put them in boxes, and when I ran out of boxes, I put them on the floor. My room became known in the wormdom as 'Bookworm Heaven"; I support the largest bookworm colony in the country. The way they go at my mags. would make you think they had a gov't charter. Come to think of it, maybe they have. I lost most of my friends because I screamed at them every time they handled one of my magazines roughly. I was constantly getting those little slips in my mags. that say: Your subscription expires with this issue. All the time new magazines were coming out! After I lost all my friends, I joined a chapter of the SFL, where I could meet other geniuses (again ?) like myself. Little did I know what I was getting into. Most of the members were editing fan mags, and of course, I subscribed to them all. I was made a member of a committee and all kinds of work fell on me. I was talked against my will into writing stories and articles. I spent so much time on science-fiction that I failed all my exams in school, and did not graduate. But, do you think I could get out--of course not. Then more pro mags. began to come out: STARTLING, STRANGE,
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