Nebula Awards Showcase 2006 (37 page)

In recognition of her appointment as SFFWA’s newest Grand Master, we’re pleased to be able to bring you a heartfelt appreciation of Anne McCaffrey by McCaffrey’s longtime friend and collaborator, Jody Lynn Nye, followed by one of McCaffrey’s best-known and most acclaimed stories.

Jody Lynn Nye lists her main career activity as “spoiling cats.” She lives northwest of Chicago with two of the above and her husband, author and packager Bill Fawcett. She has published thirty books, including six contemporary fantasies, four SF novels, four novels in collaboration with Anne McCaffrey, including
The Ship Who Won
; edited a humorous anthology about mothers,
Don’t Forget Your Spacesuit, Dear!
; and written over eighty short stories. Her latest books are
The Lady and the Tiger
, third in her
Taylor’s Ark
series,
Strong Arm Tactics
, first in the Wolfe Pack series, and
Class Dis-Mythed
, cowritten with Robert Asprin.

I
owe a lot to my friend Barbara for introducing me to Anne McCaffrey. In Barbara’s home I admired a couple of beautiful prints on the wall, all lacy and medieval in style, depicting a pretty girl with lots of dark, wavy hair surrounded by tiny flying dragons. “Those are the covers from
Dragonsong
and
Dragonsinger,
” she said. “You mean, you haven’t read them? Oh, you have to. But you should really start with
Dragonflight.
”

So I did. The Pern books grabbed me from the very first line, and never let go. They were about dragons. I had always been fascinated by dragons. These weren’t just any dragons; they were
scientifically plausible
dragons. The best part was, instead of being terrifying predators, they were mankind’s ally. If you had one of these dragons, it belonged to you and no one else, a powerful, telepathic friend whose voice only you could hear, and who loved you and protected you before all other people, against the compelling danger of the mindless Thread. What a terrific image to offer to readers who often felt vulnerable and lost in the real world. And the survival-oriented nature of the society meant that this treat was not available to just a few, but to thousands of would-be dragonriders, making it desirably inclusive to those dreamers who read Anne’s books.

The attraction of Anne McCaffrey’s books does not by any means end with dragons. Her human characters are people whom you could actually know and would want to hang around with. Here were men who were real men and—thank heaven!—women who were
real
women. Unlike many of her early male contemporaries’ female characters, Anne’s women are strong and effective. They are never cardboard cutouts devoid of feelings or thoughts, curvaceous cuties who scream and faint and need to be rescued by their big, strong hero companions, or thinly disguised men in skirts. Her heroines do quite a lot of their own rescuing, thank you. Lessa of Pern takes the initiative to save the world at nearly the cost of her own life and the life of the only fertile female dragon left on the planet. She is an original, complex personality, prickly, intelligent, quick-witted and strong-minded, yet tender toward her beloved Ramoth. Killashandra Ree holds her own in a dangerous world where only the strong survive for long, and only the talented make money. Helva, the Ship Who Sang, plies the spaceways with impunity, knowing that she belongs there.

Even so-called spear-carriers in Anne’s books are so well drawn, responding to situations as actual people would, not just as the appropriately acting agent for the MacGuffin that would solve the world-threatening problem that is at the heart of any good science fiction story. Her characters’ strength to face challenges was not only to be found in the robust and muscular, but in those who were gentle and meek. There is danger, but there is also love. Anne has said in the past that her books are romances with a little science fiction wrapped around them. Her readers revel in the relationships as much as they do in the adventures and problems that must be solved for the characters to survive.

But wait, as the infomercials say, there’s more! Most of Anne’s worlds touch the wish-fulfillment reflex in us. Imagine a job in which perfect pitch and musical talent is the key to limitless wealth, instead of second seat in the flute section. Imagine near-immortality and unfettered freedom even for those considered hopelessly physically handicapped. Imagine a humanlike species in whom the legend of the unicorn comes true. Imagine being able to communicate telepathically from star system to star system. Anne has brought us so many different dreams, and all we need to do to step into them is turn to the first page.

Anne claims in her biographies to have written her first novel in Latin class. Furtive fiction writing certainly seems to have been a far better use of her time than learning declensions or reading Cicero’s orations in the original. Even if by her current standards the early book is unreadable, it was the first step in developing the style that her readers have come to know and cherish.

The elevation of Anne McCaffrey to the status of Grand Master is recognition by the wide and diverse community of her fellow science fiction writers of the excellence of her writing, but not everyone knows what a wonderful person she is as well. Anne is generous, both professionally and personally. She gives the credit to the legendary editor John Campbell for suggesting that she write about dragons. She also said at the Nebula banquet when she was given the Grand Master award that Andre Norton told her to write about a white dragon, one with special abilities, which gave rise to Anne’s first
New York Times
best seller,
The White Dragon
.

Quite a number of her fans whom I asked found Anne’s work in much the same manner I did: through a friend who wanted to share the pleasure of a cracking good read. Others were handed the books by parents or older siblings. More came across it in bookstores, libraries, and PXs (she has a huge readership in the military). But no matter where they met Anne’s worlds they all find that true treasure a writer can give her readers: escape in her books from their daily lives. Many feel as if they know her characters, and would like to live in some of her worlds, most notably Pern.

There is a reason Anne McCaffrey doesn’t just have readers; she has fans . . . and friends. Her fans appreciate Anne not only for her writing, but for her approachability. She has a warm, open heart and great strength of character. Her knack for making anyone feel at home in her presence encourages even the most tongue-tied fan to open up and say what he or she spent far too much time nervously contemplating in that long autograph line, and to be devoted ever afterward to her. Anne’s fans have bonded with her and with one another to form an extended family. Except for a few “universes” that include
Star Trek
and
Star Wars,
there are probably more organized groups of Anne’s readers than any other writer’s. They have formed a mutually supportive community that is as full of talent, good humor, and hospitality to strangers as the lady herself. They keep in touch with one another, such communication greatly enhanced by the development of the Internet, share fiction set in her worlds, have hatching parties, exchange recipes, make costumes and write songs that celebrate facets of the complex worlds that Anne has created.

Readers also applaud the inclusive nature of her work. Women are given starring roles, yet men are in no means given short shrift. Her heroes are every bit as glamorous as her heroines. The door is open to every kind of human being. Gay groups applaud the presence of green riders on Pern, male riders chosen by female dragons who participate in the complex, energetic (and occasionally violent) mating ritual with other riders, also male, while their dragons are similarly engaged. No Earth-based racial group is excluded from being part of an adventure.
Dragonsdawn
specifically treats with the many cultures who made up the landing party that settled Pern. Psychic ability, such as that described in the Talents series, knows no racial boundaries.

Anne has, in the last fifteen or so years, allowed several junior authors, myself included, the privilege of sharing her spotlight by allowing further episodes to be written in a number of her established worlds, and in one case she created a series that has been collaborative since it began (
The Powers That Be
). I and my co-collaborators (we’ve each worked with Anne but not yet with one another) all have reason to be grateful to her, not only for the boost appearing on a cover with her has given our careers, but for the advice and encouragement she’s always given to us. She’s invited us into her home and made us feel part of the family. I learned a lot from her that I believe made my independent work better. I am also proud to be a friend of someone whom I admire so much.

In the next pages you will find a story that touches on Anne’s humanity, insight, and quick wit. Enjoy the fiction, but enjoy too knowing that the warmth that pervades all Anne’s characters and worlds is a reflection of someone who could have been the heroine herself, and to many of us, she really is.

H
ere’s a classic tale by Grand Master Anne McCaffrey, one of the earliest science fiction stories to deal with cyborgs and the Posthuman Condition—and still one of the best. (Helva’s further adventures can be found in
The Ship Who Sang
;
PartnerShip,
written with Margaret Ball;
The Ship Who Searched,
with Mercedes R. Lackey;
The City Who Fought,
with S. M. Stirling;
The Ship Who Won,
with Jody Lynn Nye;
The Ship Avenged,
with S. M. Stirling;
The Ship Who Saved the Worlds,
with Jody Lynn Nye;
The Ship Errant,
by Jody Lynn Nye; and
The City and the Ship,
by S. M. Stirling.)

S
he was born a thing and as such would be condemned if she failed to pass the encephalograph test required of all newborn babies. There was always the possibility that though the limbs were twisted, the mind was not, that though the ears would hear only dimly, the eyes see vaguely, the mind behind them was receptive and alert.

The electro-encephalogram was entirely favorable, unexpectedly so, and the news was brought to the waiting, grieving parents. There was the final, harsh decision: to give their child euthanasia or permit it to become an encapsulated “brain,” a guiding mechanism in any one of a number of curious professions. As such, their offspring would suffer no pain, live a comfortable existence in a metal shell for several centuries, performing unusual service to Central Worlds.

She lived and was given a name, Helva. For her first three vegetable months she waved her crabbed claws, kicked weakly with her clubbed feet and enjoyed the usual routine of the infant. She was not alone for there were three other such children in the big city’s special nursery. Soon they all were removed to Central Laboratory School where their delicate transformation began.