I’ve never really been enamored with overtly humorous speculative fiction. Entertaining ridiculousness is one thing (a la Douglas Adams’ Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy), but the pun-filled prose of Piers Anthony has never caught my attention (though I loved his Incarnations of Immortality series…when he stuck to his original intent to keep it at 5 books). One doesn’t really read the Hitchhiker trilogy (of 5 books; or is it 6?) for humor to begin with.

This of course does not mean that I am adverse to comedy. A competent writer will strive to incorporate all of the senses within his writing – and laughter is such an integral part of the human psyche and life itself that to write without it would be almost sacrilegious. Just as romance and mystery are present in most every tale, so too should it be true of laughter. After all, it is the same world that Horace Walpole speaks of when he says that “Life is a tragedy to those who feel, a comedy to those that think.” The Greeks deemed it important enough to include elements of both in every play.

Taking all the above into consideration and understanding that my lack of interest in reading (personally or in slush) humorously slanted material has troubled some in the past, I thought I would salute my definition of quality humorous speculative fiction with this perfect example recently read.

I am currently reading the 1983 anthology The Year’s Best Fantasy Stories: 10 edited by Arthur W. Saha. A complete review will follow at some point, but I wished to acknowledge the short story “Green Roses” by Larry Tritten as what I appreciate most about a tale obviously considered humorous.

This is an entirely humorous tale without a shred of slapstick, stupidity, unwarranted sarcasm, or superiority. Nothing is overdone and, quite frankly, there exist no singular moments of humor. This is neither the humor of Laurel and Hardy or The Three Stooges; nor even that of the Smothers Brothers or Abbot and Costello (my preferences in old-time comedic routines). Not pun or prattle or practical joke; not sass or silly or sophomoric.

From first word to last, beginning with the wonderful quietly, excitingly, suggestive lead, and consorting with fancifully self-named demons, a string of most unfortunate events, an inglorious bastard of a demon, and a clever drunk, this story is the prime example of quality humorous speculative fiction. My first contact of recollection with Larry Tritten has convinced me to find more of his material. There are no guarantees that even he will ever reproduce this ideal of mine again, but he has successfully convinced me to give him the chance. Which is all the result that any author can hope to achieve.

Ironically enough, within this very same anthology follows another tale of humor that I would label slapstick and silly…yet oddly delightful. Perhaps without the stage set by Mr. Tritten’s tale nor its editor’s prelude I would not have found it so, but in this instance it did not displease me. For now, however, I shall remain silent on further tales, as this post is in recognition of “Green Roses” and what it means to me. I recommend you read it.

I ran a short ‘Break-out Session’ at a local youth writing camp today. Was invited to speak to the teens about writing, editing, and publishing the tales of heroes. Talked about being believable, imminent, and entertaining; stressed striving for either emotional or intellectual appeal – both if they can pull it off.

Had an enjoyable time, as it’s always nice to sit and talk with writers who write what I write, read, and publish. And they paid attention, asked quality questions, then even read some material of their own. Observing these young people stretch themselves and work their talents is a beautiful thing.

I love that my daughters pursue similar creative outlet. Both enjoy story-writing, one more than the other, but both conceive fun tales of adventure. Both are readers, singers, drawers, sculptors, actors…either does more of one thing than the other, but the key is, they’re exploring them all. In fact, they would have come along with me today, but they’ve been off to summer camp this week – to camps perfectly designed for each of them: one at singing camp and one at wilderness camp. So Dad had to go this one alone.

And that’s okay, because sometimes they just have to let me do things on my own too.