Aurealis – Exploring New Worlds for 20 Years
By Dirk Strasser
On the 20th anniversary of the first issue of Aurealis, Dirk Strasser, one of the magazine’s founders, looks at the history of the magazine. This article first appeared in Aurealis #44.
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“So how’s that magazine of yours going?”
I get asked that question a lot. Mainly by people who know me well but are not even vaguely interested in science fiction or fantasy. They are usually surprised by the answer.
“Still going strong.”
This is usually met with a raised eyebrow, or a “Really?”
Twenty years is a long time to keep an Australian SF magazine up and running. Actually it’s an eternity given the history of similar magazines. So how did this happen?
I’m going to take you through Aurealis from birth to adulthood. Remember, though, this is how I recall it, and Aurealis isn’t my magazine. I only own a quarter of it, with Stephen Higgins, Michael Pryor and Volker Strasser holding the other quarters. And it has been edited by a number of others during its lifetime, most notably, Stuart Mayne, and some time before him, Keith Stevenson. But don’t let me jump too far into the story just yet...
I get asked that question a lot. Mainly by people who know me well but are not even vaguely interested in science fiction or fantasy. They are usually surprised by the answer.
“Still going strong.”
This is usually met with a raised eyebrow, or a “Really?”
Twenty years is a long time to keep an Australian SF magazine up and running. Actually it’s an eternity given the history of similar magazines. So how did this happen?
I’m going to take you through Aurealis from birth to adulthood. Remember, though, this is how I recall it, and Aurealis isn’t my magazine. I only own a quarter of it, with Stephen Higgins, Michael Pryor and Volker Strasser holding the other quarters. And it has been edited by a number of others during its lifetime, most notably, Stuart Mayne, and some time before him, Keith Stevenson. But don’t let me jump too far into the story just yet...
Some pre-Aurealis history
Please indulge me just a little here in a short trip to a time well before Aurealis started. I come from a family of printers, and I’m the only member of my immediate family not to work in the family printing business. My father had a printing press and guillotine in our garage when I was a kid, and he ran a business from home as well as working night shift at a commercial printer. He specialised in invoice books which he hand-bound in the garage with cloth and glue. He used to bind some of these books with lined pages for me to write in. I’ve kept many these, and when I was looking through them a few years ago I came across one that I don’t remember writing, even though it was unmistakably covered in my handwriting and artwork. It had the following title drawn across the front in coloured Derwent pencils: “The Magazine of Science Fiction and Fantasy”.
So there you have it. My 11 year old self had this idea of producing a magazine filled with science fiction and fantasy. Where did this come from? I don’t have a clue. I was reading a lot of science fiction and fantasy at the time, but I have no idea how the concept of a magazine popped into my head. I don’t remember being aware of (let alone reading) a science fiction and fantasy magazine, and I don’t remember my family actually subscribing to magazines of any kind.
Yet, there it was, just waiting to be reborn in an adult form many years later.
So there you have it. My 11 year old self had this idea of producing a magazine filled with science fiction and fantasy. Where did this come from? I don’t have a clue. I was reading a lot of science fiction and fantasy at the time, but I have no idea how the concept of a magazine popped into my head. I don’t remember being aware of (let alone reading) a science fiction and fantasy magazine, and I don’t remember my family actually subscribing to magazines of any kind.
Yet, there it was, just waiting to be reborn in an adult form many years later.
It seemed like a good idea at the time
The more conscious bits of Aurealis started when Stephen Higgins and I met in short story writing class. I remember it as run by a poet and filled with a huge span of would-be writers, the most memorable being one who seemed determined to channel the great nineteenth century Russian writers. Stephen and I shared an interest in science fiction and fantasy in the face of a teacher and fellow students who at best viewed us with a total lack of comprehension and at worst a cold condescension.
We struck up a friendship that led to a moment some time later, when we were sitting in my lounge room, and one of us said, “I’ve always wanted to start a science fiction and fantasy magazine” to which the other replied, “Me too.”
That was the moment when Aurealis was born.
We struck up a friendship that led to a moment some time later, when we were sitting in my lounge room, and one of us said, “I’ve always wanted to start a science fiction and fantasy magazine” to which the other replied, “Me too.”
That was the moment when Aurealis was born.
A magazine by any other name would smell as sweet
So how did we settle on the name “Aurealis”? I don’t know if you’ve checked the dictionary recently, but the word isn’t in there. We came up with a list of possible titles, and started whittling them down. We felt that since our niche was going to be Australian SF, we really wanted to get an Australian flavour in the title. So what’s so Australian about “Aurealis”? It was meant to be a merging of “Aurora Australis”, the Southern Lights. Clever, huh? Now, we were aware that if we were actually merging those words, the title would have been “Auralis”, but that looked like an ugly word to us. Aurealis” sounded more poetic. Anyway, we played around with the sounds a while and came up with “Aurealis” (pronounced Orry-ah-lis). The problem was that it was now actually a merging of the words “Aurora Borealis”, the Northern Lights, so it had the exact opposite meaning to what we intended.
We decided to stick with “Aurealis”. The “Au” at the start suggested “Australia”,and it started with an “A” so that would put us near the front of any alphabetical list of SF magazines. (And with my surname, I know the downsides of appearing towards the end of alphabetical lists.) Unfortunately, we soon realised that if we were going to make up a word for the magazine title, we should have picked one that had an obvious pronunciation. To our dismay, most people pronounced it Or-ree-lis until corrected.
To add to our pronunciation woes, we also chose the name of our publishing company at the same time: Chimaera Publications. With our lack of training in the classical languages, we pronounced it “She-mere-ah” Publications (we did get the “Publications” part right), until Michael Pryor pointed out to us that the correct pronunciation was “Ky-mere-rah”.
So there we were, with a magazine name and a publishing company name that even we didn’t know how to say correctly. Not exactly an auspicious start.
We decided to stick with “Aurealis”. The “Au” at the start suggested “Australia”,and it started with an “A” so that would put us near the front of any alphabetical list of SF magazines. (And with my surname, I know the downsides of appearing towards the end of alphabetical lists.) Unfortunately, we soon realised that if we were going to make up a word for the magazine title, we should have picked one that had an obvious pronunciation. To our dismay, most people pronounced it Or-ree-lis until corrected.
To add to our pronunciation woes, we also chose the name of our publishing company at the same time: Chimaera Publications. With our lack of training in the classical languages, we pronounced it “She-mere-ah” Publications (we did get the “Publications” part right), until Michael Pryor pointed out to us that the correct pronunciation was “Ky-mere-rah”.
So there we were, with a magazine name and a publishing company name that even we didn’t know how to say correctly. Not exactly an auspicious start.
If it’s such a good idea, why hasn’t anyone else thought of it?
Neither Stephen nor I had anything but the haziest sense of SF fandom. I remember vaguely being aware that a world science fiction convention had been on in Melbourne, but it would have never crossed my mind to attend. We were SF readers and would-be writers, not fans. So how do you start an Australian SF magazine from a position outside the
Australian SF community? How do you publish what is supposed to be an Australian-flavoured SF magazine when you have very little idea of who the top Australian SF writers were?
You learn fast.
We decided that we wanted to interview the top SF author in the country for the first issue. After some research, we decided it was George Turner, who had just released his global-warming novel set in Melbourne, The Sea and Summer (aka The Drowning Towers). To our delight he granted us a lengthy interview, which resulted in several hours of material that needed to be transcribed from our recordings. I can remember one moment at the start of the interview when Stephen and I were looking at each other, unsure of what to do next. George, to his credit, suggested a way forward without making us feel awkward.
Although George ended up being one of biggest supporters, he tried to warn us from the start. “Don’t try to publish an Australian SF magazine,” he said. “There lies nothing but grief and financial ruin.”
Luckily we knew only a little of the history of Australian SF magazines, and we had the confidence born of ignorance. We dismissed his advice and proceeded. Stephen and I both thought that, far from being ruined financially by the venture, we were going to end up making bucket loads of money. (We ended up somewhat off the mark.)
We proceeded with a little more caution but with just as much ambition. I did some financial projections which, when I look att them now, were fanciful, but which appeared both plausible and conservative at the time. We contacted Peter McNamara, whose Aphelion magazine had folded a year or two earlier, and without his generosity in giving us his contacts, tips and problems to watch out for, Aurealis would have been stillborn.
We advertised that we were open for unsolicited submissions.
We were off and running.
And then we got some more news from George Turner.
“I’m afraid you fellows have some competition,” he said “A group from Western Australia. They call themselves Eidolon.”
We gulped. We hadn’t counted on a competitor. What was going to happen to all my beautiful financial projections? How could there be room for two Australian SF magazines, when our research showed that even when there were no competitors, magazines struggled.
This Eidolon seemed to be running almost parallel to us in development. We were only a little bit ahead.
But we were a long way down the track to the first issue by this time. We had all the stories ready to go. The cover art was done. If we had received the news a few months earlier, we would have seriously considered abandoning the whole project.
But, it was too late.
We were committed.
Australian SF community? How do you publish what is supposed to be an Australian-flavoured SF magazine when you have very little idea of who the top Australian SF writers were?
You learn fast.
We decided that we wanted to interview the top SF author in the country for the first issue. After some research, we decided it was George Turner, who had just released his global-warming novel set in Melbourne, The Sea and Summer (aka The Drowning Towers). To our delight he granted us a lengthy interview, which resulted in several hours of material that needed to be transcribed from our recordings. I can remember one moment at the start of the interview when Stephen and I were looking at each other, unsure of what to do next. George, to his credit, suggested a way forward without making us feel awkward.
Although George ended up being one of biggest supporters, he tried to warn us from the start. “Don’t try to publish an Australian SF magazine,” he said. “There lies nothing but grief and financial ruin.”
Luckily we knew only a little of the history of Australian SF magazines, and we had the confidence born of ignorance. We dismissed his advice and proceeded. Stephen and I both thought that, far from being ruined financially by the venture, we were going to end up making bucket loads of money. (We ended up somewhat off the mark.)
We proceeded with a little more caution but with just as much ambition. I did some financial projections which, when I look att them now, were fanciful, but which appeared both plausible and conservative at the time. We contacted Peter McNamara, whose Aphelion magazine had folded a year or two earlier, and without his generosity in giving us his contacts, tips and problems to watch out for, Aurealis would have been stillborn.
We advertised that we were open for unsolicited submissions.
We were off and running.
And then we got some more news from George Turner.
“I’m afraid you fellows have some competition,” he said “A group from Western Australia. They call themselves Eidolon.”
We gulped. We hadn’t counted on a competitor. What was going to happen to all my beautiful financial projections? How could there be room for two Australian SF magazines, when our research showed that even when there were no competitors, magazines struggled.
This Eidolon seemed to be running almost parallel to us in development. We were only a little bit ahead.
But we were a long way down the track to the first issue by this time. We had all the stories ready to go. The cover art was done. If we had received the news a few months earlier, we would have seriously considered abandoning the whole project.
But, it was too late.
We were committed.
Congratulations, you’ve given birth to a Golden Age!
One thing we were determined to do from the start was to make Aurealis a professional magazine. No matter how much amateurism was going on behind the scenes, we wanted the world to see us as Australia’s Asimov’s or Analog.
That’s not easy to do with only a small starting budget. Our plan was to have a Peter Carey story in the first issue, but the fee was going to be too much for us. We had lined up the major magazine distributor in the country, Gordon & Gotch, and they said we needed a print run of at least 10,000 to gain coverage and visibility across the country. So that’s what we did. In fact our first print run was 12,000.
Aurealis #1 hit the newsagencies in September 1990 with an opening story by Michael Pryor and a closing story by George Turner (and some top stories in between). In our first editorial, we optimistically talked about Australia’s Golden Age of fantasy and science fiction shining just up ahead. There was actually little sign of it at the time. Let’s face it, there was absolutely no sign of it. We just made it up, because, well, if we talked about what the state of Australian SF was at the time, it was too depressing. The few SF magazines that were around had folded and none of the major publishers were publishing Australian SF novels.
The strange thing was, we actually turned out to be right about the Golden Age. It was like we had conjured it into existence just by claiming we saw it up ahead. It was a nice magic trick – or sufficiently advanced piece of technology. There was an explosion in Australian SF from that moment on, a momentum that we are still feeling today. People almost instantly started talking about the Golden Age of Australian SF. Maybe it was just some sort of power of positive thinking that we kicked off. Maybe we had nothing at all to do with it at all. Who knows? But Harlan Ellison was right in 1996, when he declared, “Do you guys understand that this is the Golden Age of Australian science fiction? Do you realise that you’re living it now? This is it. And I’ll be damned if I don’t envy you.”
That’s not easy to do with only a small starting budget. Our plan was to have a Peter Carey story in the first issue, but the fee was going to be too much for us. We had lined up the major magazine distributor in the country, Gordon & Gotch, and they said we needed a print run of at least 10,000 to gain coverage and visibility across the country. So that’s what we did. In fact our first print run was 12,000.
Aurealis #1 hit the newsagencies in September 1990 with an opening story by Michael Pryor and a closing story by George Turner (and some top stories in between). In our first editorial, we optimistically talked about Australia’s Golden Age of fantasy and science fiction shining just up ahead. There was actually little sign of it at the time. Let’s face it, there was absolutely no sign of it. We just made it up, because, well, if we talked about what the state of Australian SF was at the time, it was too depressing. The few SF magazines that were around had folded and none of the major publishers were publishing Australian SF novels.
The strange thing was, we actually turned out to be right about the Golden Age. It was like we had conjured it into existence just by claiming we saw it up ahead. It was a nice magic trick – or sufficiently advanced piece of technology. There was an explosion in Australian SF from that moment on, a momentum that we are still feeling today. People almost instantly started talking about the Golden Age of Australian SF. Maybe it was just some sort of power of positive thinking that we kicked off. Maybe we had nothing at all to do with it at all. Who knows? But Harlan Ellison was right in 1996, when he declared, “Do you guys understand that this is the Golden Age of Australian science fiction? Do you realise that you’re living it now? This is it. And I’ll be damned if I don’t envy you.”
In space no one can hear you laugh
Stephen Higgins is a funny guy. Michael Pryor, who became increasingly involved in Aurealis over the years, is also a funny guy. I, of course, being of German background am, by definition, less funny. All three of us were determined to try to include at least some humorous elements in Aurealis from the start. SF can be a little too dour at times, and most of the attempts at humour that we were receiving as submissions were based around a single pun as the punch line. These were more set-ups for jokes than stories.
From the first issue, we started Michael Pryor’s “Science Fiction Hall of Fame” series as an injection of humour. Judging by comments we received, a lot of readers didn’t actually get that these were made-up biographies. I would have thought that the reference in the first sentence to the “famous SF editor John W Heinz” could have given it away. There was, among others, E Freeport Rickenbacker who “moved from ‘Hard SF’ to what his fans called ‘Too Hard SF’, with several novels totally composed of schematics and blueprints.” Cosmo Tucker “combined SF with his culinary skills in a series of now classic works: The Stainless Steel Ratatouille (1953), The Demolished Meal (1954), The Stars my Delicatessen (1955) and the Turkish influenced More than Hommus(1957).” One of the progenitors of modern SF, Gaston La Rue, was rumoured to have “worked with Baron Coubertin on the plans for the reintroduction of the Olympic Games, offering the slogan ‘Faster, Stronger, Frencher’ for consideration.”
With issue #11, this series was replaced by Stephen Higgins “So you want to be...” series. In the first one he advised would-be fantasy writers that they needed “A good imagination and/or a working knowledge of copyright laws.” In a workshop on creating fantasy names by scrambling letters and adding Zs and Gs for evil characters, he offered, “If your dyslexic, you’re laughing.” This was replaced by Stephen’s “SF’s Sacred Cows”series from #16, where he reviewed classics such as 1984 and The Lord of the Rings as if they had just recently been published. Many of these articles were absolute gems, and both Michael and Stephen deserve to be lauded for these series.
From the first issue, we started Michael Pryor’s “Science Fiction Hall of Fame” series as an injection of humour. Judging by comments we received, a lot of readers didn’t actually get that these were made-up biographies. I would have thought that the reference in the first sentence to the “famous SF editor John W Heinz” could have given it away. There was, among others, E Freeport Rickenbacker who “moved from ‘Hard SF’ to what his fans called ‘Too Hard SF’, with several novels totally composed of schematics and blueprints.” Cosmo Tucker “combined SF with his culinary skills in a series of now classic works: The Stainless Steel Ratatouille (1953), The Demolished Meal (1954), The Stars my Delicatessen (1955) and the Turkish influenced More than Hommus(1957).” One of the progenitors of modern SF, Gaston La Rue, was rumoured to have “worked with Baron Coubertin on the plans for the reintroduction of the Olympic Games, offering the slogan ‘Faster, Stronger, Frencher’ for consideration.”
With issue #11, this series was replaced by Stephen Higgins “So you want to be...” series. In the first one he advised would-be fantasy writers that they needed “A good imagination and/or a working knowledge of copyright laws.” In a workshop on creating fantasy names by scrambling letters and adding Zs and Gs for evil characters, he offered, “If your dyslexic, you’re laughing.” This was replaced by Stephen’s “SF’s Sacred Cows”series from #16, where he reviewed classics such as 1984 and The Lord of the Rings as if they had just recently been published. Many of these articles were absolute gems, and both Michael and Stephen deserve to be lauded for these series.
I know what art is, but I don’t know what I like
Stephen and I disagreed at times on the selection of stories for Aurealis, but it was the covers that created the most controversy. It was a rare occasion when Stephen actually liked one of the published covers. We were hampered in the early days by a print process that required only two colours plus black. There was a period where we had too many people riding on strange beasts. And the requirement that an Aurealis cover should contain some sort of Australian element (regardless of how subtle), caused difficulties at times. Artists couldn’t simply send us something they had already done. We’ve probably offended all sorts of Aboriginal sensitivities over the years.
But there was one thing that everyone agreed: Shaun Tan was an incredible artist. Although he claims there was some other publication that paid him for his work before us, until I see the evidence of it, we are going to claim Shaun Tan an Aurealis discovery. He was still at school when we first commissioned him. Have a look at the first cover he did for in #2, which he sent to us on spec when he was 16. He was so good that it got to the point where I asked him to not only do the cover, but also totally redesign Aurealis, doing all the internal illustrations and design elements. He was far and away the best artist we had come across. He was also a brilliant interpreter of a story. He would read a story we sent him and always come up with a unique interpretation. We couldn’t possibly afford him anymore, but he has left an important legacy to the magazine. Most of all, I love the fact that one of the country’s most significant artists came from the SF community.
But there was one thing that everyone agreed: Shaun Tan was an incredible artist. Although he claims there was some other publication that paid him for his work before us, until I see the evidence of it, we are going to claim Shaun Tan an Aurealis discovery. He was still at school when we first commissioned him. Have a look at the first cover he did for in #2, which he sent to us on spec when he was 16. He was so good that it got to the point where I asked him to not only do the cover, but also totally redesign Aurealis, doing all the internal illustrations and design elements. He was far and away the best artist we had come across. He was also a brilliant interpreter of a story. He would read a story we sent him and always come up with a unique interpretation. We couldn’t possibly afford him anymore, but he has left an important legacy to the magazine. Most of all, I love the fact that one of the country’s most significant artists came from the SF community.
So you want to be famous...
If you want to have a successful career in SF, I would recommend you offer to work on Aurealis. It’s like we cast a spell over people. (Or more likely we that we simply attract talented people in the first place.) Trudi Canavan was our Art Director for a number of years and she has gone on to be a best-selling fantasy author on the world stage. She was unpublished when she started and was a hugely successful author by the time she left. Sara Creasy has followed a similar trajectory. She was our editor for a number of years and has recently had a major novel release from Tor in the US. Michael Pryor, of course, has gone on to be one of the top Young Adult authors in the country. Sarah Endacott made a career in editing after starting off as a copy editor, as well as going on to produce her own magazine. Our reviewer, Bill Congreve started his own publishing company. So has Keith Stevenson. And Stuart Mayne. And Andrew McKiernan has fingers in so many pies, he’s only got his toes to go.
Once you get onto the authors who had their first (or early) professionally published stories in Aurealis and went on to be successful novelists, the list is huge and includes K J Bishop, Simon Brown, Stephen Dedman, Shane Dix, Hoa Pham, Kaaron Warren and Sean Williams (and I know I’ve left many out).
Once you get onto the authors who had their first (or early) professionally published stories in Aurealis and went on to be successful novelists, the list is huge and includes K J Bishop, Simon Brown, Stephen Dedman, Shane Dix, Hoa Pham, Kaaron Warren and Sean Williams (and I know I’ve left many out).
Okay, what’s your secret?
How is it that Aurealis has lasted so long, when Australia is littered with SF magazines that didn’t go past a handful of issues? A dogged determination combined with a foolish optimism. I’m also convinced that one of the reasons is that we made a clear space for ourselves from the very start. We were the Australian SF magazine. We published Australian authors, Australian artists, encouraged stories with Australian elements, had covers with Australian themes, and reviewed Australian novels. To do anything else meant we would competing directly with the likes of Asimov’s and The
Magazine of Fantasy & SF, a battle we would lose because we couldn’t match their pay rates for stories.
The other factor was that for a number of years we were successful in gaining literary grants from Government bodies. One of the key criterion for these was literary merit. This is not easy to demonstrate for an SF magazine. Lurid covers and a prejudice against the SF genre among literary types made this extremely difficult, but fortunately through our persistence, the quality of the stories won out in the end. And the end result was that for a number of years our pay rates matched the professional US magazines.
Our other secret weapons have been Keith Stevenson and Stuart Mayne. Many SF magazines run out of puff because the drivers behind them run eventually run out of energy and enthusiasm for the the project and want to free up their time to pursue other interests. This happened to Aurealis as well, but instead of folding the magazine we advertised for an editor to take over. Keith Stevenson did a terrific job and currently Stuart Mayne is doing an equally terrific job. Trudi Canavan, and in recent years Andrew McKiernan, have kept the website and artistic side in great shape. If it wasn’t for these four people, Aurealis wouldn’t have reached the 20 year milestone.
Magazine of Fantasy & SF, a battle we would lose because we couldn’t match their pay rates for stories.
The other factor was that for a number of years we were successful in gaining literary grants from Government bodies. One of the key criterion for these was literary merit. This is not easy to demonstrate for an SF magazine. Lurid covers and a prejudice against the SF genre among literary types made this extremely difficult, but fortunately through our persistence, the quality of the stories won out in the end. And the end result was that for a number of years our pay rates matched the professional US magazines.
Our other secret weapons have been Keith Stevenson and Stuart Mayne. Many SF magazines run out of puff because the drivers behind them run eventually run out of energy and enthusiasm for the the project and want to free up their time to pursue other interests. This happened to Aurealis as well, but instead of folding the magazine we advertised for an editor to take over. Keith Stevenson did a terrific job and currently Stuart Mayne is doing an equally terrific job. Trudi Canavan, and in recent years Andrew McKiernan, have kept the website and artistic side in great shape. If it wasn’t for these four people, Aurealis wouldn’t have reached the 20 year milestone.
You can’t please most of the people half of the time
Aurealis has attracted more than its share of controversies over the years – which is strange because we undertook from the outset to not offend people. We found out that avoiding offence is a difficult thing to do in the SF community. We were always doing something that raised the ire of someone. I guess it’s to do with the fact that the SF world is a community and people take things personally. It started right after the first issue was published. Someone, whose name I can’t remember, sent us an abusive letter which ended with a prediction that we would fold quickly (clearly the guy was psychic). What was his beef? George Turner in my interview with him said something disparaging about cyberpunk. So, apparently, I was responsible for George’s opinions.
How dare I publish what he said! From then on, the history of Aurealis was littered with people annoyed at us. Why? A large part of the reason was that we were flooded with submissions over the years and had to reject 98% of what was sent to us. We simply couldn’t publish more stories. We also had a commitment to publishing one or two new authors per issue. This wasn’t good news for some of the more established writers. We were particularly harsh on what we felt were bottom drawer stories from the top writers. We felt that authors needed to earn their spots in Aurealis, not cruise through on their reputation. The policy offended many authors, but I still think it was the right one – for everyone: the beginning writers and the top writers.
So what were some of the other things we did that caused people to get annoyed with us? Here’s the short list:
We put “Please resubscribe” stickers on the covers of subscribers’ last issue.
We published double issues.
We published a triple issue.
We published themed issues.
We didn’t publish enough issues.
We didn’t publish at the same time every year.
We took too long to respond to submissions.
We didn’t publish enough women.
We didn’t publish enough horror.
We didn’t publish enough science fiction.
We didn’t publish enough fantasy.
We didn’t publish poetry.
We didn’t publish serials.
We didn’t publish longer stories.
We published too many stories with swearing.
We published too many beginning writers.
We published too many established writers.
We published too many literary writers.
We published too much genre fantasy.
We published too much hard science fiction.
We didn’t publish enough New Zealand stories.
We published too many New Zealand stories.
We tried to set up an Australian SF Writers Association.
We weren’t like Eidolon.
We weren’t like Asimov’s.
We weren’t more like a fanzine.
We were aiming for world domination.
We never published stories with cats in them.
How dare I publish what he said! From then on, the history of Aurealis was littered with people annoyed at us. Why? A large part of the reason was that we were flooded with submissions over the years and had to reject 98% of what was sent to us. We simply couldn’t publish more stories. We also had a commitment to publishing one or two new authors per issue. This wasn’t good news for some of the more established writers. We were particularly harsh on what we felt were bottom drawer stories from the top writers. We felt that authors needed to earn their spots in Aurealis, not cruise through on their reputation. The policy offended many authors, but I still think it was the right one – for everyone: the beginning writers and the top writers.
So what were some of the other things we did that caused people to get annoyed with us? Here’s the short list:
We put “Please resubscribe” stickers on the covers of subscribers’ last issue.
We published double issues.
We published a triple issue.
We published themed issues.
We didn’t publish enough issues.
We didn’t publish at the same time every year.
We took too long to respond to submissions.
We didn’t publish enough women.
We didn’t publish enough horror.
We didn’t publish enough science fiction.
We didn’t publish enough fantasy.
We didn’t publish poetry.
We didn’t publish serials.
We didn’t publish longer stories.
We published too many stories with swearing.
We published too many beginning writers.
We published too many established writers.
We published too many literary writers.
We published too much genre fantasy.
We published too much hard science fiction.
We didn’t publish enough New Zealand stories.
We published too many New Zealand stories.
We tried to set up an Australian SF Writers Association.
We weren’t like Eidolon.
We weren’t like Asimov’s.
We weren’t more like a fanzine.
We were aiming for world domination.
We never published stories with cats in them.
Missed it by that much...
Aurealis escaped disaster on a number of occasions. We had a huge crack at the US market at one point, and sent 10,000 copies of several issues to a major US magazine distributor. Somehow, we had the wrong barcodes on the covers for the US and the distributor had to re-sticker every copy, at our expense. This, combined with a large number of copies that were damaged in the trip across the Pacific, meant we actually ended up owing the distributor money. We had another US distributor fold on us without paying, but which still somehow managed to sell the stock we sent them years later.
Our newsagency distribution in Australia ended when we got a statement from them saying, according to some bizarre accounting, we owed them money. There was a time when a major Melbourne bookstore refused to pay us, and Stephen only got the money by going in and standing over them while they wrote the cheque. On another occasion, we found out that the Post Office had been overcharging us for years on our mail-outs, and we fought for (and managed to get) compensation. Then there was the disastrous Queensland experiment that almost brought the magazine to its knees. And the accountant who charged us more than our annual revenue to do our tax return.
We’ve weathered it all.
Our newsagency distribution in Australia ended when we got a statement from them saying, according to some bizarre accounting, we owed them money. There was a time when a major Melbourne bookstore refused to pay us, and Stephen only got the money by going in and standing over them while they wrote the cheque. On another occasion, we found out that the Post Office had been overcharging us for years on our mail-outs, and we fought for (and managed to get) compensation. Then there was the disastrous Queensland experiment that almost brought the magazine to its knees. And the accountant who charged us more than our annual revenue to do our tax return.
We’ve weathered it all.
So, there’s a magazine too?
The name “Aurealis” is now widely recognised in Australia and around the world. People usually pronounce it correctly. They associate it with Australian SF and they associate it with excellence. It often appears in published books and in articles in major newspapers. Writers want to be associated with it. Multi-national publishers want to have it on their covers. What a fine achievement. What a magnificent thing it is. So, can we pat ourselves on the back and congratulate ourselves as a result? Not really. The recognition isn’t usually for the magazine. It’s due to the Aurealis Awards. They began in 1995, and if you want to know about their history, well, that’s another story...