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Martians, Come Back

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One more down and done and in the pipeline.

OLD MARS, a new anthology of science fiction and fantasy stories about Old Mars (not the real post-Mariner Mars, but the one we all loved as kids, with the canals and the dead cities and the various flavors of Martian) is complete, and has been delivered to our editors at Bantam.
When we know the publication date, you will too.

The anthology will feature fifteen original, never-before-published short stories and novelettes, story notes and author intros by Gardner, and an introduction by yours truly. Here's the lineup:

RED PLANET BLUES (Introduction) by George R.R. Martin
MARTIAN BLOOD, by Allen M. Steele
THE UGLY DUCKLING, by Matthew Hughes
THE WRECK OF THE MARS ADVENTURE, by David D. Levine
SWORDS OF ZAR-TU-KAN, by S.M. Stirling
SHOALS, by Mary Rosenblum
IN THE TOMBS OF THE MARTIAN KINGS, by Mike Resnick
OUT OF SCARLIGHT, by Liz Williams
THE DEAD SEA-BOTTOM SCROLLS, by Howard Waldrop
A MAN WITHOUT HONOR, by James S.A. Corey
WRITTEN IN DUST, by Melinda Snodgrass
THE LOST CANAL, by Michael Moorcock
THE SUNSTONE, by Phyllis Eisenstein
KING OF THE CHEAP ROMANCE, by Joe R. Lansdale
MARINER, by Chris Roberson
THE QUEEN OF NIGHT’S ARIA, by Ian McDonald

Gargoo and I had a lot of fun putting this one together, and I hope you folks will have as much fun reading it.

And now... fasten your seat belts and rev up those rockets, boys and girls, we'll be blasting off for OLD VENUS next... arrival scheduled for about a year from now.

(We make no promises about OLD URANUS).

Comments

justjohn
Aug. 27th, 2012 04:19 am (UTC)
You know what planet could do with this treatment? New York CIty
I was just watching a couple Spider-Man movies, and reflected that one thing that series has over the DC universe is that DC has Metropolis and Gotham, but Spider-Man has New York City.

There are tons of SF renditions of the place, from I Am Legend through Neil Gaiman's take within A Game of You. And there's Chronic City by J. Lethem, with its off-camera tiger stalking Manhattan.

I only lived there for a short stretch of my childhood, in the late 1960s. It was mostly in Queens, tho my mother got an apartment on the east side of Manhattan, and we'd read to each other from the just-released Ballantine paperbacks of Lord of the Rings. My older sister strode the streets in bare feet.

In the Eighties, I passed through Grand Central with a whole recording studio in my duffel bag and shared a spare shrimp salad bagel with a panhandler -- I'd forgotten NY deli portion sizes when ordering. And later, but before the Disneyfication, I got my first listen of Warren Zevon's Roland the Headless Thompson Gunner while watching a live sex show just off Times Square.

My point to this longer-than-intended bit is that everybody has their own New York City, from Tom Wolfe to Kinky Friedman. And how far could they stretch it?

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