Today, November 25, is the 99th birthday of Poul Anderson (1926-2001). Anderson was once a major name in both science fiction and fantasy. Today, he is out of print and rapidly fading into obscurity.

He’s one of my favorites. I’ve not read anywhere near all of his works. There are a number I’ve not read.

I’ve not had time to read anything of his for this post. I try to do that for birthday posts, but I’m wrapping up a rough semester.

So I want to ramble or rant or ruminate, not sure which it will be, on something that’s been on my mind off and on for the last few months.

And that’s publishing and how one author is remembered and others are forgotten. This is not soemthing that is limited to the literature of the fantastic.

When I was in high school and college and for many years before that, when I was still knee-high to a grasshopper, publishers ketp their backlist in print. One of those authors whose books were always available was Poul Anderson. His books were everywhere.

And not just from one publisher, either. Anderson was published by Ace, Del Rey, Tor, and Baen more or less simultaneously.

While individual titles might be out of print at any given time, overall, he stayed in print. There were other writers, as well, who had most of their backlist in print. Heinlein. Asimov. Simak. Clark. Bradbury. Pohl.

Back then, publlshers had a differetn mindset. Probably because there were a lot more of them, and they weren’t owned by international conglomerates. They built an audience for an author.

There was continuity in the field. There was history. There was a shared culture and links to the past. People knew what had gone before. What had been done. And who had done it.

Not so much today. Very few titles are in print that were published, just to pick a random number, twenty years ago. There’s no continuity.

Yes, things change. Science fiction, fantasy, mystery, all genres need to grow and change.

But writers like Anderson shouldn’t be forgotten. Their works shouldn’t be lost.

I had to go to Abilene this afternoon to take care of some matters. While I was there, I stopped at the (as far as I know) only second hand bookstore left. It’s been about six months since the last time I visited. They have a good selection of science fiction and fantasy. One of the authors I looked for was Anderson.

The only title they had was A Stone in Heaven. It was a reatehr beatup copy. A lot of the books at this particular store aren’t in the best condition.

Don’t get me wrong. This is an excellent book, part of the Dominic Flandry series, and well worth reading.

I was surprised at first,, though, that this was the only title of Anderson’s on the shelf. Had I overlooked others? Was this one slightly misshelved?

No.

But then I remembered that many authors whose works used to fill second hand bookstore shelves have become harder and harder to find.

And that’s a shame.

I’ve been wanting to read more Anderson lately. Especiallly his short fiction. Today reminded me of why.