THE MENTOR 78, April 1993
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THE MENTOR AUSTRALIAN SCIENCE FICTION CONTENTS #78 ARTICLES: 20 - THE STARS OF OUR STORIES by Jim Verran COLUMNISTS: 16 - THE YANKEE PRIVATEER #16 by Buck Coulson 21 - ISAAC ASIMOV by Andrew Darlington 24 - FANTASY DOWNUNDER #2 by Bill Congreve 38 - ARGENTINE SF HISTORY by Claudio Omar Noguerol COMIC SECTION: 53 - THE INITIATE by Steve Carter DEPARTMENTS; 2 - EDITORIAL SLANT by Ron Clarke 63 - THE R&R DEPT - Reader's letters 77 - CURRENT BOOK RELEASES by Ron Clarke FICTION: 3 - COLDMACE MOONLIGHTS by Duncan Evans 23 - ESCAPE FROM YINN by Brent Lillie 31 - THE PROBLEM OF THE PERIPATETIC CORPSE by Evan Rainer POETRY: 18 - HEY, HE'S A FISH by I. Lubensky 49 - POETRY, TOO - Monique DeMontigny, J. C. Hartley, William P. Robertson, Douglas A. Guilfoyle, Julie Vaux Trent Jamieson, Maria-Louise Stephens Cover Illustration by Steve Carter. Internal Illos: Steve Fox p. 15, Peggy Ranson p.22, 23, THE MENTOR 78, April 1993. ISSN 0727-8462. Edited, printed and published by Ron Clarke. Mail Address: THE MENTOR, c/- 34 Tower St, Revesby, NSW 2212, Australia. THE MENTOR is published at intervals of roughly three months. It is available for published contribution (Australian fiction [science fiction or fantasy]), poetry, article, or letter of comment on a previous issue. It is not available for subscription, but is available for $5 for a sample issue (posted). Contributions, if over 5 pages, preferred to be on an IBM 51/4" or 31/2" disc (DD or HD) otherwise typed, single or double spaced, preferably a good photocopy (and if you want it returned, please type your name and address) and include an SSAE! Contributions are not paid; THE MENTOR 78 page 1 however they receive a free copy of the issue their contribution is in, and any future issues containing comments on their contribution. Contents (C) Copyright 1993 for the Contributors. THE INITIATE (C) 1990 by Steve Carter. THE MENTOR 75 page 2 Last issue of TM I didn't do an Editorial, and When I arrived there I introduced myself and Dale several LoCCers took me to task. Actually, I was hoping to Stewart (the sacrifice I had brought) and climbed up the get the issue out three months after TM 76, and thus a steep stairs to the meeting room. There were already chairs month early, but events conspired to belay that hope. scattered around and several people were already there. A perennial subject is the dying off of fanzines. We settled down and I handed over the chocolate biscuits I This is again particularly noticeable in Oz. Fanzines do had brought. At about 8 pm more people arrived and I met come out regularly - though I can only think of ETHEL THE more members of The Sydney Horror Writers' and Artists' AARDVARK, THE CANBERRA SF SOCIETY'S BULLETIN Association than I knew existed. There is obviously a and THE MENTOR. These are two clubzines and one stream of SF/horror/fantasy in Sydney that was up till then genzine. There are others - DOXY, SCIENCE FICTION - but hidden to me. they aren't really regular. There is probably only one There were about 10 people altogether at the "faannish" zine - DOXA, but that is also irregular. There is meeting, none of whom I had met previously. Many of also THYME, which Alan Stewart has taken over and which those there had heard of, or read, THE MENTOR, of which I I had thought had been a bit behind, and which I received a was surprised - I had had no idea of the depth of copy of recently. I suppose we will have to wait to see penetration of Sydney fandom by the zine. Some had read what happens. I thought this was a Great Dying Off, as of it through friend's copies, others through the sales in there also seemed to be a dearth of conventions; then I saw Galaxy Bookshop. I met Steve Carter and he gave me a the list of cons in THYME. Of course most of the cons are copy of his comic CHARNEL HOUSE, from whence came SF media cons. the two episodes of THE INITIATE published in this and There is also change in this issue - the Argentine the next issue of TM. SF History finishes, and one on SF in Russia\Ukraine There are other comics of Steve's that I won't be commences. Hopefully this latter column will last, as I am publishing - they are horror orientated, rather than SF, and sure that there is much background material for such a have already been published in that media. column. (This was actually shown by the SF in the USSR There are, as indicated by the "official" title of the material I published several years ago). Gargoyle Club, several of the Club who were artists, and Something else that has come to light in this issue had portfolios of their work there. One of these was Kurt is the material on help -for-writers. THE MENTOR is not Stone, some of whose work interested me; it should be meant primarily for a "writer's workshop", no matter how appearing in a future issue, being SF rather than horror. much it could look like that. I stlll intend TM to be a The room at the top of the stairs where the meeting genzine and have wide-ranging topics in articles, a took place had the right atmosphere - there were horror and lettercolumn with the same, poetry, fiction, and anything fantasy posters on the walls, including a portrait of H. P. else that strikes me fancy (and that isn't a typo). Lovecraft. There weren't quite enough chairs to go around I went to my first meeting of the Gargoyle Club a and several of the fans camped on the floor, discussing couple of Fridays ago. Don Boyd had rung me up and told various topics. me of the meeting and gave me Leigh Blackmore's phone I had to leave early, but I enjoyed myself and hope number. I rang Leigh and found out how to get to the to go back to a future meeting. address and said i would try to make it that meeting. THE MENTOR 78 page 3 One of the things I found out about Steve Carter's the plot. I am not going to say what that morality is - the work was the moral attitude expressed. I must confess that reader will have to see for him/herself. It is all through I published the the strip in TM 77 and indeed the portion of Steve's work, and it will be interesting to see what THE the strip that Don Boyd sent me because of the artwork, not MENTOR's readers make of it. - Ron. COLDMACE MOONLIGHTS by Duncan Evans CHAPTER 1 woods on the far side of Treacle creek were the responsibility of his brother, Snatch, whom he did not like Coldmace was a goblin in the house of Our at all. So he just sat watching as the child picked its way Grand Lady Elm. He was a night goblin, raised up from the down to the creek and knelt to taste the water. Deepening Pool, which meant his skin and fur were blacker Later, having drunk its fill, it paddled among the than hate, and his eyes were big and wide, and the bright stones and began to sing. And its song was like nothing places beyond the forest were places he must never visit Coldmace had heard before, not even lying in his dark cell lest his thin blood turn to steam. He had three brothers, beneath the Forest Home where music and bright voices each like himself, and between them they patrolled the sometimes found their way. And although he sneered, as corners of Lady Elm's domain from the hour of sunset until goblins will, very soon his gaze went straying west along the first ray of dawn lit upon Castle Hill to the east. This the creek and he fell to wondering what sights old Treacle they did each night without fail, and had done for as long might see as it journeyed out beyond the forest. Then a as Coldmace could remember. desire swelled inside him -- not to see those things for One time, in those few quiet hours after midnight himself, as a creature of the light might wish, but to smash when the land sleeps deepest and ghostly possibilities down all the gladness and warmth and hide it under the hover behind the mist, Coldmace paused to rest his grime. So he made the gesture of deceit and caused a toy haunches upon his favourite rock, down by Treacle Creek. dragon -- such as the children of the Forest Home used for He listened. Tall Willow whispered sad lies at his back. play -- to appear upon the pebbles a little distance from his Rock murmured its slow tale. Old Treacle babbled vaguely hiding place. Then he sent a sweet bird-sound out across of dwarves and strong beer and the thrum of machines in the water. deep places. These were sounds which belonged. The child looked up and was snared. It gave a little When the sound came that did not belong, gasp and waded into the creek, chubby arms outstretched. Coldmace grew stiff as stone and bade Tall Willow hush Midway, however, it paused and glanced uncertainly awhile. He drew the shadows in around him and pricked his around in the thin moonlight. Coldmace was not ears. Soon enough his wide eyes caught a little human child discouraged: he placed a friendly sparkle in each of the stumbling through the trees on the far side of the creek.