Introduction 2
by Kevin J. Anderson
When I was just starting as a writer, I hung out with other newbie authors, exchanging ideas, learning the ropes, sometimes sharing breakthroughs, sometimes sharing ignorance. I also knew a few big name authors who took an interest in me and offered their advice.
One of my greatest early mentors was Dean Koontz, who was willing to offer suggestions, listen to problems and questions, and lend a helping a hand. I could contact Dean with a contract concern, ask his opinion on a pending deal. He was instrumental in getting me my agent, and he even gave me a cover blurb for a very important book.
Dean was a huge name in the field and he certainly didn’t need to go out of his way to help one particular aspiring author; in fact, the more I thought about his generosity, the more astonished I was. When I finally asked Dean why he had noticed me in particular, he explained that he had given a lot of advice over the years, “and you were one of the only writers who actually listened.”
I remembered that, and as I became more and more successful myself, I also spent time teaching writing students: passing along my knowledge and trying to help other newbies avoid making the same mistakes I had made (so that they could make brand new mistakes all on their own).
Brad R. Torgersen is one of the ones who listened.
I first met Brad in 2010, when he was part of a group of a dozen new winners at the Writers of the Future gala and workshop. I’ve been a judge and instructor at Writers of the Future since 1996, and I’ve noticed that it’s typical for several writers in each year’s group to establish successful writing careers of their own, while most others vanish into obscurity—you never know which will be which.
I therefore had no reason to notice Brad in particular. He was cheerful about his win and excited for the future. But then, they’re all like that. So you—as the judge—give them your wisdom and you wish them well, and you go back to your professional life where deadlines and projects multiply like kudzu.
Except, Brad showed up at our Superstars Writing Seminar—an intensive career-building workshop taught by bestselling writers—in Salt Lake City, just a few months later. He had a story in print with Analog magazine by then; his second professional sale. What was more, Analog had taken two more stories on top of that. Later in the same year I met Brad for the third time, at the 2011 Writers of the Future event, where Brad had come back to act as a sort of ambassador to the new winners—showing them what was possible, if you put your mind to it.
Clearly, this was a new writer determined to be noticed.
Brad and I struck up a relationship after that. He continued selling stories to Analog magazine, and he went out of his way to ask me for advice online. He also built a group of followers through social networking, and he made additional sales to other short fiction venues, such as Orson Scott Card’s InterGalactic Medicine Show. Brad was also collaborating with fellow Writers of the Future judge and friend of mine, Mike Resnick, and when in 2012 Brad returned to Superstars—this time in Las Vegas, helping me out as one of our Superstars volunteers—he was a triple nominee for three of science fiction’s top awards: the Hugo, the Nebula, and the Campbell. On top of the nominations, he’d also won the Analog AnLab—a readers’ choice award chosen by the magazine’s subscribers.
This collective swell in notoriety ultimately got him the notice of Toni Weisskopf, chief editor and publisher of Baen Books; to whom Brad sold his first novel in 2013. A transaction I proudly oversaw, as one of Brad’s counselors on the affair. My blurb is on the front of his book, as a matter of fact (hat tip to Dean Koontz.)
But Brad had a problem. The novel wouldn’t be published until late 2014, and with all his convention appearances there were fans who kept asking Brad for a book now. He therefore got the notion that he wanted to publish a collection of his award-winning and award-nominated short work. A very good idea, I thought. There was clear demand for his stuff, and Brad aimed to satisfy that demand. Simple businessman economics.
But short fiction collections are a tough sell to traditional publishers. And even if Brad could successfully pitch his project to an editor, it would take years for the book to reach print. Brad wanted something he could put into fans’ hands immediately. So he was openly talking of self-publishing the collection.
I wasn’t quite sure that self-publishing was the right route for him, since Brad has a full-time job, is also a Chief Warrant Officer in the Army Reserve, had other books to write, and self-publishing the book—correctly, to professional standards—would consume time Brad honestly didn’t have. He also wouldn’t know how to navigate the various distribution channels, nor have access to proofing and formatting and the other necessities of a professional label.
I therefore offered to publish Brad’s first story collection, Lights in the Deep, at WordFire Press. We had the resources to do it right, and I thought we could find the right readers for it too. Ergo, capitalize on fans Brad had already earned, and get him a flotilla of new readers to boot.
That turned out to be exactly the case. The book, when done, looked beautiful. Brad got a gorgeous cover painting from award-winning artist Bob Eggleton—the same painting editor Stan Schmidt had previously commissioned for one of Brad’s stories in Analog magazine—and we released the book at the inaugural (and very successful) Salt Lake City Comic Con, in September 2013. Brad did a signing at the WordFire table behind a small mountain of his books—a stack that rapidly diminished over the course of the weekend.
Brad’s fans rallied on-line too, and the book sold quite well, hitting several Amazon category bestseller lists. Enough so that within thirty days Brad had earned enough royalties from Lights in the Deep to pay his mortgage that month—a terrific performance for a first short story collection from a relatively new author published by an independent press.
So of course we were interested in doing his second collection, when he floated the idea at Superstars in 2014. A collection which you now hold in your hands.
Brad is a prolific short story writer with the chops of a pro. I published one of his novellas in my second Five by Five military science fiction anthology, and also invited him to contribute a story for my second Fantastic Holiday Season anthology. (Of course that may be just a devious ploy to get him to write more short stories, so WordFire can put together the contents for yet another volume.)
Racers of the Night is therefore a strong collection showcasing the work of a rising author on the move. Dip in, read one or two at a time, or devour the whole collection straight through.
Then? You’ll surely be ready for more. Goodness knows readers are. As of the writing of this introduction, Brad has secured a second AnLab award, and two more Hugo nominations; for stories Brad published in Analog magazine, and which he re-printed in Lights in the Deep.
Racers of the Night contains more of the same. I think you will enjoy.
—Kevin J. Anderson, May 2014
***