Chicanonautica: Ernesto Update 2022

by Ernest Hogan

2022 is off and running. We got past January 6 without serious mayhem. Covid is still mutating and rampaging, but civilization ambles on.

And I’m still here, alive and well, as the Father of Chicano Science Fiction, doing the day job, waiting for El Porvenir ¡Ya! Citlalzazanilli Mexicatl A Chicano Science-Fiction Anthology to come out with a new story by me. If you can’t wait for another new Ernesto story, there’s one in Speculative Fiction for Dreamers: A LatinxAnthology–buy it, review it now! And it’ll be a while, but my story collection, Pancho Villa’s Flying Circus, is still a go . . .

The main thing I’m doing is fighting to concentrate on finally finishing my novel, Zyx; Or, Bring Me the Brain of Victor Theremin. I’m at the point where it’s all starting to come together, the end is in sight, all I have to do is sit my ass down and nail the entire gonzo mess down. And that ain’t gonna be easy.

I’ve long said that while short stories are like a bout with the flu, novels are more like demonic possession. The monster has been growing in

the back of your brain; so far it’s been fun following it around, jotting notes on the havoc it wreaks on the landscape, but now it’s time to wrestle it down and hog tie it into a conclusion that will satisfy the reader.

Yeah, both rodeo and bullfighting metaphors apply.

This is more work. You have to engage the frontal lobes. The monster drains more brainpower. You start having trouble with the routine, “normal” part of your life . . .

And of course, this takes more of your time, which triggers the diabolical cosmic machinery that throws more demands for your attention your way–like this column, and my personal blog, and my social media activities. 

I struggle to keep a public spectacle dedicated to drawing attention to my writing, rather than me blathering about my life.

It’s amazing how people don’t notice that.

It’s also a good thing that writing takes up so much of my life, and brain, that there’s not much left of anything else.

So I should get back to work. I have this complicated sequence where a lot of subplots come together with giant monsters, artificial intelligences, aliens (extraterrestrial and other), gangsters, a Chicano science fiction writer, and his crazy friends. And dammit, I keep finding places where I need to write new scenes . . .

Later I’ll worry about how to market the chingadera, and wonder if it’s possible for a Chicano to write a worldwide bestseller.

Yeah, I know, some people wish they had these kinds of problems.

Ernest Hogan has too much imagination for his own damn good. He is also the author of High Aztech, Cortez on Jupiter, and Smoking Mirror Blues.

Chicanonautica: Unplugged Con Gómez-Peña

by Ernest Hogan

El Maestro Guillermo Gómez-Peña needs no introduction in the Latinoid Continuum, but I have to do some explaining when discussing him with my colleagues in “science fiction” that includes fantasy, and often intersects with other realities. Funny how people who consider themselves connoisseurs of other worlds have problems with things outside this planet's Anglo/Caucasian ghetto. I’ve spent a lot of my career explaining myself to them, even though I’ve been involved in the genre since I was a snot-nosed punk.

My standard line is that he does on performance what I do in science fiction.

Then I usually have to explain what performance art is . . .

A better tactic would be to show some of his work. Flipping through Gomez-Pena Unplugged: Texts on Live Art, Social Practice and Imaginary Activism (2008-2020) by Guillermo Gómez-Peña, edited by Emma Tramposch & Balitrónica Gomez, guest editors: Elaine A. Peña & William Stark, would provide a clue of why I think GP's work is something that those who enjoy the outer reaches of global cultural phenomenon known as science fiction should be following. Too bad a copy won't just materialize when I need it.

The first noticeable thing is visuals. The art is packed with the complex language of symbolism that is the dominant trait of la Cultura. They say instantly in images what a writer has to say with a lot of words--or at least use them with like as master. Here it is. Who we are. What we are. How we live. They would make great covers and illustrations for my work.

Some people from outside of the Latinoid Continuum raise eyebrows at this point. What? Why is it all so weird and threatening? Where are the nice Latinos that will fit into our neoliberal infrastructure and get wealthy patrons to want to invest in us?

Like I’ve said before: Chicano (and its mutating variants) is a science fiction state of being. I use the term “science fiction” loosely, the way “ordinary” folks do, as a name for things they don’t understand. It could easily be surrealism, magic realism, or some new term being cooked up in a university Zoom meeting as you read this.

Speaking of reading, it just gets better as you read Gómez-Peña. These performance texts, poems, and “philosophical tantrums” (sometimes they’re all of the above all at once) are as much a joy to read as they are to experience as part of a performance. Watch out, they inflame the imagination and are powerful Chicano sci-fi, and I say this as the recognized Father of Chicano Science Fiction.

I caught a lot of these through the miracle of the interwebs, but when reading them assembled in a book (my compliments to the editors) they take on a larger dimension, form an epic panoramic vision of what's happening on this planet, this civilization, these strange rumblings in the Global Barrio . . . 

I find myself drifting into a fantasy where I go back in time and show this book to myself back in 1971. His adolescent mind is blown. He’s reminded of the “new wave” speculative fiction he was reading at the time, but has questions:

“It’s like the great new wave novel, but you say it’s also real? You mean the future will be that . . . bizarre?”

“What the last several decades have taught me is that the fatal flaw of science fiction is that it all tends to be too conservative.”

He’s obviously shocked, I show him the references to “Ernest Hogan” in the book.

“He really thinks that the world is becoming more like your . . . my work?”

“Well, yes.”

My younger self’s eyes twitch. Beads of sweat appear on his forehead. Foam leaks out of his mouth . . .

But seriously, if you want a handle on the way the world is going, Gómez-Peña Unplugged will give you a good start.

Ernest Hogan is adjusting to changes that haven’t happened yet, and working on that novel. 

Chicanonautica: La Pocha Nostra Anthologized

by Ernest Hogan

Not even COVID-19 can keep La Cultura del Continuum Latinoid down. Didn’t have anything planned for the next Chicanonautica, but I didn’t worry. These are active times. Things are happening. Something will come. And it did.

I was fooling around, scanning through Facebook when I came across and announcement for San Francisco Living Archives’ La Pocha Nostra: An Experimental Anthology. It was a film, the sort of thing I would like to see being a fan of Guillermo Gómez-Peña (he does in performance art what I do in science fiction—we should probably collaborate someday . . .), his wife Balitronica, and the whole Pocha Nostra troupe in all its manifestations. I was going to file it under be on the lookout for, but noticed that the premiere was going to be special a weekend event online.

And there was a trailer:

I dropped everything and watched it.

¡Guao!

More than thirty years of video, cleverly assembled, makes for one helluva movie. It’s as much avantgarde sci-fi as art retrospective documentary. Science fictional conceptualization and characterization mix with out there aesthetics, bleeding into snippets from various pop cultures, creating new worlds—which is what we need with the world in the sorry shape that it is.

It’s the sort of thing I’d show in the drive-in theater/all-nite cable movie marathons I host in my dreams, snuck in between ancient monster movies, bizarre cult classics, and other cinematic outrages, demonstrating that performance art has become what science fiction convention hallway culture showed a promise for, before cosplay became devoted to worshiping corporate franchises.

We need more non-corporate culture.

I’m pretty sure this film will be popping in venues of various kinds, some the likes of which we have never seen before, soon.

Gómez-Peña, being a creature driven by social and audience interactions, was frustrated in the early days of the quarantine, but he’s bounced back, heroically adapting to the new virtual, cultural environment. He, Balitronica, and La Pocha have been doing so much, I can’t keep up with it, which is a good thing. 

When it comes to La Cultura, you can’t have too much.

Ernest Hogan, the author of High Aztech, Cortez on Jupiter, and Smoking Mirror Blues is surviving through these troubled times, working a novel, other writings, and other art forms.

Chicanonautica: Latinx Rising Paco Preview

by Ernest Hogan

Finally, it's here, Latinx Rising: An Anthology of Latinx ScienceFiction and Fantasy, edited by Matthew David Goodwin. It's available in trade paperback, and ebook. Order now!

One reason you will want to is that has a story by me, “Flying Under the Texas Radar with Paco and Los Freetails.” It tells how my character Paco Cohen, Mariachis of Mars, (who appeared stories in Analog, one of which, “The Rise and Fall of Paco Cohen and the Mariachis of Mars” will be reprinted in The 2020 Look at Mars Fiction Book in August!) got from the Lone Star State to the Red Planet.

Here's a preview:

Why did I leave Texas, and come to Mars? Why does everybody ask me that? Haven’t you ever been there? Or heard anything about it? 

Especially way-the-chingada back then when they were worried about who was Texan, and the whole Great Texas Identity Crisis broke out.

In case you don’t remember (nobody seems to to remember anything these days, history becomes myth before you know it) I have a hard time convincing my daughter that I wasn’t born on Mars-- he whole Texas secession thing was largely the work of a billionaire/politician/entrepreneur named Billy-Bob Paolozzi who, quasi-legally, in the name of the Second Amendment, acquired some nuclear weapons.“If nukes were outlawed, only outlaws would have nukes, besides, I’m just a concerned citizen looking out for the security of my property and/or country!” Billy-Bob forced what used to be the United States of America to let Texas go, and declared himself interim President/CEO.

It was a hell of a time to be young man full of talent and hormones and urge to fuck and fight, scream and shout, and do something that would shake the world, or at least make for an exciting weekend.

 **********

Ernest Hogan's career is running wild in the quarantine. Looks like Chicano science fiction writers are essential workers

Chicanonautica: The Father of Chicano Science Fiction Gets Older

by Ernest Hogan

One of the advantages of being the Father of Chicano Science Fiction is that I'm still seen as a young troublemaker. It kind of goes with the territory. Mixing rasquache and sci-fi tends to result in things that send shockwaves into polite society.

Or maybe they’re waves of disgust? No matter. 

The transformative effects are what I’m after.

Maybe that’s why New York is afraid of me.

You’d think that now that I’m 64 I wouldn’t be a threat, but I still have weird shit growing my brain. It keeps me dangerous.

I never considered myself a cyberpunk, but my age and the times have stuck the label on me. People have asked me about the Chicano cyberpunk movement. At the time I wasn’t aware of any.

Some revolutions happen in retrospect.

It would be nice to be some kind of literary elder statesman, but that just doesn’t seem to be in the cards. Maybe it’s all for the best. I seem to be a universal outsider (even among Chicanos). I’ll always be a Chicimec, a barbarian, and alien invader sneaking across borders.

If I had a dime for every time I was only brown face in the room . . .

I actually feel comfortable in this role. I’ve accomplished a few things. My books have been praised, and written up. I keep getting called a genius, which keeps my ego afloat.

If for some reason, I couldn’t publish any more, I’d feel like done something significant with my life.

But then, people keep wanting to publish me.

And I keep getting these weird ideas.

One thing I wanted to do was to finish my novel Zyx; Or, Bring Me the Brain of Victor Theremin--which is about a Chicano science fiction who has lost track of where his life ends and science fiction begins--by the end of the year. I’m steaming ahead on it, but I don’t think I’ll finish it by New Years Day 2020. I write more and more, and the end gets farther away. It’s what get for being so creative.

I’m sure to have a big, hulking chunk done, though, and I’ll keep going, finish is, even if it is a little late.

I have to do it. It’s one of the novels I want to write. Years ago, I gave up on trying to write what the publishers are supposed to want, what the so-called experts say will sell. My experiments in trying to go commercial all go terribly wrong, so I’ll write what’s chewing away at my brain.

If I can finish these books before I croak (don’t worry, I’m in great health, but who knows how many decades I have left), I’ll be happy.

Maybe when I’m gone, they’ll cause trouble from beyond the grave.

A good attitude to have while going into a new decade while the world is looking so apocalyptic it’s not funny.

Ernest Hogan knows where his life ends and the science fiction begins. At least that’s what he says.

Chicanonautica: Help Lucy Veloz Fly

by Ernest Hogan

Alex Hernandez is a Cuban-American science fiction writer based in South Florida, author of the novel, Tooth and Talon. and story collection, Transhuman Mambo. He is also the father of two daughters, and had noticed some things while looking for books for them:

Based on 2018 Amazon data, only 18% of the bestselling children’s books had a female protagonist and according to Time’s 100 Best Children’s Books of All Time, just 19% of the most critically acclaimed children’s books had female protagonists.

To compound things, a mere 5% of books published in 2018 depicted a Latinx character, as found by the Cooperative Children’s Book Center, School of Education, University of Wisconsin-Madison.

5%!!! In 2018! And that’s both male and female. If you look at only Latina characters, the percentage becomes almost insignificant.

So he’s decided to do something about it. He wrote Lucy Veloz, The High-Flying Princess, “the story of a smart, brave girl who uses her marvelous inventions to become a superhero when the conquering Drood arrive on her planet.” 

It’s a chapter book for ages 6 to 8, with illustrations by artist Patrick Lugo. There’s science, adventure, and all kinds of stuff that will entertain kids of all ethnicities, but especially let Latinx girls (and boys) see characters like themselves do the world-saving for a change.

He’s doing a crowdfunding to get it published (yeah, yeah, do I have to explain that the mainstream publishers, even of kid’s books are still hesitant about this sort of thing even in this day and age?), which gives you a chance to help.

So go here and donate, (I did), and tell your friends and family.

Kids will have fun, learn a few things, and maybe go on to invent things and do some world saving of their own.

Ernest Hogan will be the judge of the Second Annual Somo en escrito Extra-Fiction Contest, for which the deadline has been extended to October 14th.

Chicanonautica: A Letter to 1969

by Ernest Hogan

Things have been so weird lately (I know, I overuse the word weird, but in this case it fit better than anything else) I like to imagine what I would say if I had a time travel device and could send a letter to the 1969 version of me . . .

You really won't believe how weird it is. Future Shock was just a warm up to the effects. It's beyond Harlan Ellison/Dangerous Visions.

This is supposed to get to you right after the moon landing. Have we read those books yet? If you haven't, read 'em anyways.

As we expected, the world went stark, raving sci-fi, but it was more like New Worlds than Analog. If I can say one thing that most twentieth century science fiction writers got wrong it's that they had it all make too much sense. Some of them even thought that technology would inspire a more rational society.

Pardon me while I do an old-fashioned, mad scientist BUHUHU-HAHAHAHAHAHA!

The surrealists were right: Never underestimate the power of irrationally

I know you're excited about space exploration, but it was put on hold for a few decades. Folks didn't think it was worth the money. Then we had some advances in special effects, and years of corporate sci-fi, and we've got a space station, the Chinese (the Russians are doing other things) have fired up a newfangled space race, and crazy billionaires are getting into the rocketship business.

Crazy billionaires are a thing, a big thing. Most people are struggling, but the some of the super-rich are running amok. I used to think they were tools used by unimaginative writers, but now they make news.

One of them has even been elected president, though some of us believe that the Russians messed with the electoral process. (Oh yeah, and these days, conservatives love the Russians . . .) He shut down the government because he wants money to build a wall along the U.S./Mexican border.

Don't laugh. I know it sounds like a gag out of Mad Magazine or Cracked, but it's what's happening, baby!

And your skin color and ethnicity will be a stumbling block in your writing career, even after all the protest and riots back in the Sixties. Brace yourself for years of struggle. They now study me at universities and invite me to lecture, but it took a while.

Some things have gotten better. California and the Southwest are getting browner, as are most of the people at the desk behind the computers, (oh yeah, computers are a helluvalot smaller, I carry two in my pocket) imputing the data to get the business done.

So many people who look like family.

Of course, for some people, it's a nightmare. They lust after a border wall.

The this all has everyone in a weird mood. The air is heavily polluted with anger. There are protests and riots around the world.

Meanwhile, I'm working on novels and short stories. Getting published. Being a writer. Our dream come true.

I even kind of enjoy the torrent of news that is like a nonstop, dystopian, preapocalyptic science fiction scenario, but every now and then it hits a little too close to home.

What's that? I think the Time Police are knocking at my door . . .

Ernest Hogan will have stories in several upcoming anthologies. Stay tuned for details.

Chicanonautica: Advice for the Mexicanxes Going to WorldCon

by Ernest Hogan

Suddenly, weeks before it begins, the 76^th Annual World Science Fiction Convention is in turmoil. Somehow, they neglected to schedule people of color who have been nominated for their Hugo Awards to take part in their panels. The usual excuses about natural phenomena that mimic the effects of racism, but are not racist, were dragged out. They're starting their programming over from scratch, just in case . . .

Meanwhile, the convention's Artist Guest of Honor, John Picacio (a Mexican American), has organized the Mexicanix Initiative, that will buy memberships for “Mexicanx artists, writers, filmmakers, culture shapers, and fans.”

I was one of first Mexicanxes John Picacio contacted. I was honored, but turned him down. A free membership would help, but having to fly to San Jose, and stay somewhere on my own dime, could seriously drain my funds, and I had other family and professional obligations. My wife and I have been to more conventions in the last few months than we had in the last several years. And WorldCons can make all your money disappear.

Also, I had been disappointed by the last few WorldCons I'd been to. The subculture that created them is getting old, withering up and dying. It felt more like visiting a sick friend in a hospice than a nexus for an exciting cultural phenomenon.

Now, I'm worried about the Mexicanxes. A lot of them probably aren't familiar with old school fandom. They don't know what they're getting into.

As a Chicano who's been going to sff conventions since the Seventies, and has been speaking on panels since the Eighties, I can offer some advice about being an outsider in Scifilandia.

First, not all of them are Sad Puppies, mourning the fall of white supremacy and the vision of an all-white future. Most of them consider themselves to be liberals, it's just that though they like galaxy-spanning entertainment, they are in many ways unsophisticated. Remember the stereotype attached to the world “nerd” before it became fashionable? A lot of them have led sheltered lives, and use sci-fi and fantasy to insulate themselves from a universe that is always threatening to blow their minds.

They're uncomfortable with alien things. I consider that to be the opposite of what science fiction is supposed to be, but I'm the guy who keeps wondering if he should start a Too Weird For Sci-Fi Club.

A lot of them have somehow managed to never get to know many people of color. They think sff, and culture in general, is a white people thing.

For years I was usually the darkest person in the room. Harlan Ellison thought I was black.

What has been happening in recent years causes anxiety, even panic-attack reactions. Be careful.

But also, don't be intimidated. As a Chicanonaut, I'm always going where no one of my ethnicity has gone before. I don't see any reason to stop.

Approach the WorldCon like a strange new world. Don't worry about the convention committee's scheduled events—if they suit you, go, if not, do your own thing!

Have our own convention. Meet each other. Party. Have fun. Clatter some plots and plans. Get stuff started. Don't let anybody stop you!

If there's one thing I've learned in my years as writer/artist it's that following the rules, and doing what you're supposed to do, doesn't work.

Once they see that what you're doing is fantastic, you will win them over.

Ernest Hogan, known as the Father of Chicano Science Fiction, just sold a story about a futuristic Aztlán to The Latinx Archive, and will be the final judge of First Annual Somos en Escrito Extra-Fiction Writing Contest 2018.