Fantastic Metropolis

Publishing houses, being businesses, merely seek to maximize their profit margins. If I’m allowed to play the Devil’s advocate for a second, I can only say it would be naïve to expect otherwise. Not only that, we’ve already seen a handful of independent presses–key elements in the democratization of print publishing—do an admirable job at injecting quality imaginative literature into the vaster world. What independent presses may lack is reach, but the internet has so far been a helpful and reliable aid in the promotion and distribution of their books.

It’s not for lack of good writers either, as Fantastic Metropolis aims to demonstrate. From the very start in the October of 2001, when Gabe Chouinard founded the site after tossing a few ideas around in his high-voltage “Dislocated Fictions” column, we have been trying to oppose the constant barrage of mediocre and platitudinous sf by telling the world about talented people who tend to be overlooked, or not enough admired, by readers at large.

These are writers who like to leave no stone unturned (and unthrown) in their fiction, fiction that is relevant to our present, even though, as in Calvino’s cities, the thread of their discourse may seem secret. These writers enjoy questioning everything, sometimes even the way stories should be told. They revel in exploration, not exploitation.

Gabe thought of calling this bunch the “Next Wave” but, quite honestly, I don’t think good writers come in waves, and it would be a shame if they were only revealed that way. There’s always someone walking the alleyways of obscurity, someone who does not and will not conform, and who has a good story waiting to be told.

Some of these authors gladly agreed to partner with Fantastic Metropolis, and were brave enough to take risks. They allowed us to run their stories and essays without asking for anything in return. In time, other people joined the project, for no incentive other than a desire to help. We could scarcely believe our eyes—Fantastic Metropolis was up and running, subsisting on people’s goodwill alone.

However, the site almost perished, barely two months after it launched, when several events conspired to force Gabe away from the internet (and, consequently, Fantastic Metropolis). Gabe announced the end of Fantastic Metropolis, and news of its impending demise was already spreading across the internet when I decided to send out a call for help getting the site back, not wanting to see that much hard work go to waste.

Several people replied. Of these, three joined me at the helm of Fantastic Metropolis, all with extensive editorial experience: Jeff VanderMeer, Zoran Živković, and none other than Michael Moorcock himself. Shortly afterwards, Paul Witcover came aboard, another experienced editor who until then had been ahead of Time Warner’s now extinct iPublish imprint; and later L. Timmel Duchamp, who is a discerning critic as well as an exceptional writer.

The courage, sympathy and generosity—not to mention the talent—of all Fantastic Metropolis contributors demanded a reward, and that was how plans for this anthology first came to be. The royalties of Breaking Windows will revert to the authors, while another small share will go to supporting the site and forthcoming FM-related projects. Unfortunately, there are space restrictions and only a handful of people made it into this book, although I hope future anthologies will right this enforced injustice.