Growing up a military brat, we moved around a lot. It was during one of these moves, when I was nine, that I was thrust face first into Science Fiction books.
It’s a wonder I ever went back for seconds.
In the spring of 1984, we moved to Nuremberg, Germany. So many of my transformative memories come from the mid 80’s in Germany, it’s a wonder I didn’t turn out more warped than I already am. Like many making the transition to live in Germany, we lived in a government owned hotel while waiting for housing options. Living in a hotel where everyone is between homes, either stateside or locally, breeds a slightly different atmosphere than staying in a hotel while on a trip. I’m not sure I can describe it, or if the same phenomenon is still possible in our modern age of immediate data gratification. My nine year old’s perspective remembers it as a community of strangers living in a sea of foreigners (granted, we were the foreigners, but my nine year old self wasn’t that insightful).
An acquaintance of ours in the hotel, either out of pleasure or because he wanted to distract the rising fourth grader that wouldn’t shut up, handed me a copy of Arthur C. Clarke’s Rendezvous with Rama.
I struggled to read that book. I hated that book. In fact, I’ve never gotten the taste of it out of my mouth . To this day I still respect Arthur C. Clarke, but would rather not read his fiction. If you’ve read the book, though, you can understand how my nine year old brain shrieked in the birthing fires of genre. I came out a crippled, smoking husk.
But all was not lost. Having dived into the deep end, I recovered by gorging myself on the more age appropriate books. Narnia was swallowed whole. The works of H. M. Hoover, an author I recall being a fantastic science fiction writer at that age, were consumed cover to cover. Susan Cooper became a regular guest at my table. And as I healed, I began forging out into the more “adult” arena again. Sagan’s Contact, and other books of a less memorable and more pulpy fashion (including a book I recall being similar to Sagan’s book, but more action oriented). Rama will always be my battle scar, my right of passage.
As I wrap up this post, I’ve already written three more follow ups. I’ll be posting these on Sundays for the next month, so tune back for more of my romp down memory lane. For now, I’d love to hear back from you all. Do you remember what that first book was that really moved you to becoming a fan of SF/F?
