This past weekend, my First Reader and I went back into D.C. to see Tom Stoppard’s new play “Rock ‘n’ Roll,” at The Studio Theater.

It’s about a Czech dissident in Cambridge, who returns home during the 1968 unrest, and his mentor, a British communist university professor. Stoppard himself was born in Czechoslovakia before fleeing the Nazis, and the play mixed twenty years of Czech opposition with the Western rock music that was an important symbol for the dissidents.

It was an interesting play and an engaging production in the round, and there were lots of wry truths about totalitarianism of all stripes, but for me this play was nowhere near as brilliant as Stoppard’s “Arcadia.” “Rock ‘n’ Roll” seemed mostly about ideas–the Czech opposition movement, communism in Britain, 60s and 70s rock in general and the music and life of Syd Barrett (the Pink Floyd founder and Cambridge native who became mentally unstable) in particular. The parallels, to me as a musician and a student of history and literature, were fascinating.

But other than some tender moments with the British communist Max and his extended family, the play didn’t seem to be as much also about the characters. Perhaps it was the long lapses of narrative time between scenes, often three or more years. Perhaps it’s that the essence of rock or of winning societal freedom is hard to dramatize. Perhaps it was that the dissident protagonist didn’t seem to have a clear goal–he went home to Czechoslovakia but didn’t know exactly why; he vacillated about signing a political petition then got talked into it; he spent time between scenes in prison but didn’t seem much changed for it; and his running off with another character at the end of the play seemed sudden to me and not fully motivated.

“Arcadia” is likewise about ideas, but at the same time it’s also about the characters. Thomasina is aching to learn, Septimus is driven to teach her, Bernard aches to prove that Byron stayed at Sidley Park, and Hannah is driven to endure Bernard’s blather. That may be that play’s higher genius, that it’s about both ideas and people at the same time.

Which is definitely the combination I prefer. I don’t care for SF that’s purely about ideas or fantasy that’s purely about a milieu. I’ve got to have dynamic people (or aliens) amongst those ideas or that milieu, rife with their own core hopes and fears, driven to pursue something, so I can empathize with their core humanness while they’re wrestling with ideas or moving through a milieu.

For me, it all comes down to that line from Faulkner’s Nobel acceptance speech–the only thing worth writing (or reading) about is the human heart in conflict with itself.

I was delighted last week to read a glowing review of my short story “Ebb,” which is in the current issue of Space and Time. It’s by Rob Santa, a writer and indie publisher of swords and sorcery, in the Firebrand Fiction column at SFReader.com. Of all the stories in that issue, he said “‘Ebb’ is my favorite piece, a true standout.” Among other strong praise, he noted “Andrews gives each piece of this world a rich description, with enough emotion and character to chew on for days.” Pretty cool!

“Ebb” had a long and arduous path to publication, including several editors who did not understand the ending, so I was quite pleased to finally find one who did. But it’s even more rewarding to know that my vision connected with at least one reader, and just as powerfully as I intended it. Thanks very much, Mr. Santa, for the kind words!

My contributor’s copies of Space and Time #107 recently arrived, the issue that includes my short story “Ebb.”

They look gorgeous. As always, the typeface and printing is crisp and clean, and the paper is nice, thick white stock–much better many other print magazines. There’s a neat B&W illustration for “Ebb” by an artist named David Grilla, which is pretty cool. It doesn’t fit the setting exactly, but that’s no problem; it’s a weird setting.

I’m very happy to see this story in print. It’s probably the most extreme of my “literary traditional fantasy” stories in that the narrative veers well into literary territory, but the story also has one of my most meticulous, almost SF, scondary-world settings. It also has an ending that editors at several top-level magazines completely missed, so I’m delighted that the folks at Space and Time enjoyed it.

If you’re interested in checking it out, Space and Time now offers a PDF subscription at half-price. You won’t get the thick white stock, but you will get all the crisp print!

In a move that could affect the majority of SF/F short fiction magazines currently operating, there is a motion up for vote at this year’s WorldCon to abolish the Hugo Award category for Semipro Zine.

This Semipro Zine category covers many of the most vibrant magazines publishing today, including Clarkesworld Magazine, Weird Tales (which published my story “Excision” in #347), and Fantasy Magazine. My own magazine Beneath Ceaseless Skies also fits this category.

Many great stories have appeared in Semipro Zines since the category was established in the 1980s. These magazines publish far more new writers and experimental fiction than the “pro” zines do. Clarkesworld Magazine and Weird Tales were both nominated for this Hugo this year. I think it would be a shame if we lost this Hugo category as a way to recognize accomplishments made at this vital level of short fiction publishing.

Editor Neil Clarke has started a website to Save the Semipro Zine Hugo. It features listings of Semipro Zines and awards they and their fiction have won. It also explains the WorldCon voting process and how attendees can participate.If you are as concerned about this as I am, please visit his site and learn what you can do to help.