Space Rubbish!

The esteemed Isaac Wilcott, who helped me with my research when I was writing NULL A CONTINUUM, has decided to venture onto the opinion and editorial pages of the Internet. He has begun his own blog at

I suspect that he lacks that personality defect of shameless exhibitionism which makes men become actors, opinion-makers, pundits, science fiction writers and ax murderers, so it behooves us to click through and visit and leave a word of encouragement.

Wilcott is, after all, a fellow fan of A.E. van Vogt. Van is the writer of all writers who shaped my youthful imagination and persuaded me of the infinite potential of the human spirit. In the time of John W Campbell Jr., Van was as big as Robert Heinlein or Isaac Asimov, but while these two authors have withstood the test of time, or even grown to legendary stature as the year flee, poor Mr. Van Vogt lingers neglected and foresaken.

So anyone who does not forget Van Vogt has earns special and grateful admiration from me. (And that includes the midget monster Harlan Ellison, by the bye, who fought like a tiger to get Van his well-deserved Grandmaster award from the SF Writer’s guild.)

And, so far, Mr. Wilcott is the only person I’ve ever met who read more Van Vogt than I have, even coming into possession of unpublished (in English) van Vogt manuscripts, and rareties from his pre-SF sales to True Confession magazines, and so on.

In any case, if you are wondering why Mr. Wilcott named his journal after killer space screwdrivers or wandering debris, or if you like his Van Vogt Info pages, you owe yourself a visit.