Woman Writing Science Fiction As Men by Mike Resnick

Author:Mike Resnick [Resnick, Mike]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 0756401488
Publisher: DAW Book
Published: 2003-06-01T21:00:00+00:00

We drove home in what turned out to be one of the worst blizzards of the winter, and by the time we got back to the campus, we were too worn out to talk about anything. The next time I saw Ed, it was well after the end of Christmas break. Needless to say, our next issue of the magazine was on indefinite hold. I’d gone home for the holidays, and hadn’t seen him in weeks. We ran into each other at the Rat. He bought me a beer and sat in silence while I made patterns in the condensation on the glass, trying not to think about PatPhang’s window. I hadn’t told anyone about our trip to Lake Okichobi, not even my mother.

“I have something for you,” said Ed finally. He took a piece of paper out of his pocket and laid it on the bar. It was a check for two hundred and fifty dollars, made out to me.

“What’s this?” I said.

He cleared his throat. “It’s half of my advance from Deuce publications.”

“For what?” I said, but as soon as I said it, I knew what he’d done. “You sold the Hollow Earth to Deuce?”

“They’re going to publish it as a novel.”

“But it’s not even yours!”

“Most of it is,” he said. “After we went to Michigan, he quit sending any more. I had to finish it.” He rubbed his eyes. “It topped out at seven hundred pages. He only sent two hundred.”

I just stared at him. I had no idea what to say. “What’re you going to do if he finds out?”

“He won’t,” said Ed. “He’s just a reclusive nut listening to the wind in the caves under his house. And even if he does find out, we never published any of that stuff in its original form. I rewrote it before it ever touched the mimeo machine. What he sent and what we printed doesn’t match. Hardly at all.”

I pushed the check back at him. “I don’t want this.”

He pushed it back, as though any evil consequences were going to be mine to bear as well. “You’re an equal partner, Mister Cassidy.”

“Stop calling me that,” I said, and tore the check into pieces and dropped the pieces into his beer. I stood up to go. “If anything PatPhang wrote was true, Ed, do you know what’s going to happen to you?”

He gave me a tired look. “It’s just a crazy story. And it sells. They gave me a contract for three more books.”

“Well,” I said, scared for him, angry at him, amazed by his endless audacity. “Well, I hope it works out for you.”

I didn’t see Ed for a long time after that. He left UNI and began writing full time. I’d see his books in the stores once in a while. He had a steady, apparently growing, popularity.

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