Should We Have New Andre Norton Stories?

One of our forum members asked if there will ever be any new books in the worlds created by Andre Norton. Andre Norton’s literary estate went through some legal procedures after she passed away in 2005.

The situation concerning rights and royalties has been sorted out by the courts but fans are confused about whether anything will happen with creative proposals. Some of Andre’s old books have been republished in omnibus editions. Undoubtedly some of the most popular books and series will continue to be reprinted.

But what if someone wants to write a new story in one of Andre’s worlds? Will Sue Stewart, who appears to hold the literary rights to all future works in Andre’s literary estate, accept and consider proposals for new stories? That’s not for me to say.

But I think this question begs a larger question: is it fair to readers if, when an author dies, all that author’s works and worlds are suddenly frozen shut, especially if the worlds had been shared with other writers (as some of Andre’s worlds had been)? We have seen a few famous authors’ worlds picked up by younger hands, such as H. Beam Piper (whose literary successor is Jerry Pournelle) and Isaac Asimov.

On the other hand, any author’s purist fans would be appalled at the idea of someone else writing stories in their favorite writer’s milieu, changing the histories of beloved characters and literary cultures. Imagine Christopher Tolkien authorizing a Fourth Age novel which takes Sam, Merry, and Pippin on a new adventure before Sam leaves Middle-earth. That will never happen, but what would the fans think? What would the literary scholars who have devoted 30 years of study and debate to figuring out exactly what J.R.R. Tolkien actually wrote?

Fan fiction offers an outlet for people who want to see their favorite literary worlds expanded. There is a huge amount of Tolkien fan fiction, for example, inspired by the books as well as the movies. Most fan fiction is poorly written. It’s also rarely well promoted despite the fact there are some huge fan fiction archives and communities.

You cannot make money off of fan fiction. Some publishers may try to stop it if they feel the fan fiction dilutes the value of the trademarks that are associated with literary worlds. That is, suppose you write really good fan fiction that people start to treat as authoritative? Will you get into trouble with whomever holds the reins in your literary universe?

Andre Norton fans may have little choice but to look to fan fiction for new enjoyment in her star-faring, gate-opening imaginary universe(s). Some of the stories that were published under Andre’s aegis were, in my opinion, little better than fan fiction. I held my tongue, however, because at least people were publishing stories and keeping Andre’s worlds alive for new generations of readers.

But that is another facet to this complex gemstone: many people no longer read books. I haven’t bought a book in years. I now almost exclusively do all my reading online. Many people have switched to buying electronic books for the Kindle or other platforms. But how do you get fan fiction published on the Kindle? You’ll have to change the names and make your fan fiction an “original work”, and then you’re stuck with no readership.

We can dismiss the idea of worrying about what happens to literary worlds after authors die for any number of reasons, not the least of which are the copyright laws that ensure no one can exploit those worlds for decades without permission from the authors’ estates. But the intense passion that fans develop for their favorite science fiction and fantasy worlds may comprise an untapped market of both creativity and readership that could slip away because our laws are not ready to deal with the realities of the Internet generation’s world.

If we are buying fewer books than before, many authors whose works were once loved by moderate-sized readerships will fade into obscurity forever because there is no one to keep alive the candles of their imaginations. Although it is well said that only Dashell Hammett knows how to write Dashell Hammett, it’s also true that our literary practices evolved from ancient traditions where many voices and hearts contributed to the stories that were passed from generation to generation. In fact, Homer’s classic poems “The Iliad” and “The Odyssey” were merely two components in a 200-year-long tradition by Greek poets known today as the Epic Cycle.

We do have writers who attempt to carry on where others have long since finished writing. Sequels to the works of Shakespeare, Jules Verne, and Margaret Mitchell (to name just a few of the most well-known authors in history) have been published in the last 100 years, sometimes very successfully. But the problem is that WE live in the current generation and WE are missing the creativity that once entertained us in familiar surroundings.

Science fiction and fantasy struggles to make a lasting impression on the “mainstream” literary audience. We largely live in our own world, keeping the Mundanes at bey, but in reality we are all Mundanes who have been elevated to the Plane of the Fantastic, and having tasted the sweet juices of its striking, strange fruits we are addicted.

When we put the book down, when the movie has ended, when we go home from the weekend convention, we look out upon the same sun that has followed our rise from small four-footed mammals to bipedal intelligences capable of wiping nearly all life from the face of the Earth. We long for the release from this ancient prison that imaginative literature grants us. Each author’s works is a window into the sea of soul dreams that promises to take us away from the impending threat of Ordinary Life.

Having tasted those sweet flavors we find we are addicted and we want to go back. The question is, should we retrace those fading steps that led us to the shores of Faerie or should we seek our own pathways and perhaps discover new vistas, new worlds awaiting our exploration?

Was this not what Andre Norton really wanted us to consider when she shared her own stories? Is our imagination no less inspired than hers? Would her greatest literary gift be an unending license to expand and explore her literary worlds or would it be the compulsion to go forth and create our own?