Chapter 96: Some Kind of Wonderful - The Early Careers of George R.R. Martin and Stephen King
Before he helped to redefine the novel and speculative fiction and inspired the highest rated and most awarded program in modern television history, George Raymond Richard Martin was born on September 20th, 1948, in Bayonne, New Jersey; the son of Raymond Collins Martin, a dockworker, and his wife, Margaret. George would grow up with two younger sisters, Darleen and Janet, to whom he was quite close, given a lifelong propensity for feeling like something of a social outsider. Martin’s mother was of half-Irish ancestry, and between she and his father, Martin could also claim French, English, German, and Welsh heritage. The Martins moved around frequently throughout George’s childhood, though they always remained “trapped” (in George’s words) in Bayonne, where his father worked. At first they lived in a house belonging to George’s great-grandmother. Then, in 1953, they moved into a federal housing project near the Bayonne Docks. Throughout his childhood, George’s life primarily consisted of “first street to fifth street” - the tiny neighborhood between his home and his primary school. This limited experience made him want to travel and see other sights, feel other sensations, but because of his family’s meager financial means, the way way he could do this was through the development of an active, wondrous imagination. George honed his creativity by becoming a voracious reader. When he wasn’t reading comic books, sci fi novels, and the “pulp” works of Robert Howard and H.P. Lovecraft, Martin started trying his hand at writing stories of his own. He began to sell these short stories, mostly gruesome horror tales, to his neighbors and friends, complete with a dramatic reading for a penny or two. It was his first experience as a “paid” author, but certainly not his last. Martin also famously wrote stories about a fantastical kingdom, populated by the pet turtles he kept in a terrarium in his room. The turtles died frequently in their toy castle, so George’s imagination decided that they were murdering and betraying each other in complex, machiavellian political plots to rule their small kingdom. Martin would later credit these stories with perhaps being the first inspiration for his most famous work, which would come about decades into his already by then prolific career…
Though Martin would credit Lovecraft, Shakespeare, and of course, J.R.R. Tolkien with inspiring his own fiction, Martin would later posit that perhaps the most profound literary influence on him as a child was Stan Lee, chief editor and writer for Marvel Comics throughout the 1960’s. During this, the Second Heroic Age of Comic Books, George was a massive fan, becoming a member of the fledgling comics fandom, and winning an award for the best comics “fan fiction” with his 1965 short story, “Powerman v The Green Goblin”. Martin was also the very first person to register for an early comic book convention, held in New York City, in 1964. This lifelong interest in writing and storytelling brought Martin to decide to study literature and creative writing as an undergraduate. Though he briefly considered attending Northwestern University’s Medill School of Journalism in Evanston, Illinois, a generous financial aid package and the promises of a strong creative writing program brought him instead to Ithaca College in Upstate New York. There, the young Martin was to meet one of the great literary figures in the history of television, the man who would become his first great mentor and serial professor during his time at Ithaca. That man was Rod Serling, screenwriter, playwright, television producer, narrator, World War II hero, and most famously, the creator and chief writer for
The Twilight Zone, one of the most enduringly popular and celebrated programs in television history.
Near the end of
The Twilight Zone’s fifth and final season, Serling had grown weary from years of non-stop writing, producing, and teaching week long seminars, and decided that he needed a change in lifestyle. He first took a one year job teaching English at Antioch College, in Ohio, and decided he enjoyed the Academic profession, but would prefer to live closer to his childhood home of Binghamton, New York. He would teach classes during the days and evenings during the week, then spend his weekends writing a screenplay which would eventually become
Seven Days in May, a political thriller about the President of the United States being removed from power in a military coup for pursuing an arms reduction treaty with the Soviet Union. The film was a modest success commercially but was critically acclaimed and won high praise from President John F. Kennedy himself, who had Serling to the White House for a private screening of the film, followed by a dinner with Serling and his wife. Kennedy said that he enjoyed the film so much because not only of its moving rhetoric and themes, but also because of what he saw as its “realism”, explaining to Serling in private that JFK had, in fact, feared a military coup during the Cuban Missile Crisis. Serling and the President remained on again, off again pen pals for years afterward. Serling developed and maintained a prolific career by exploring themes other writers shied away from because they were “too political” or “too socially aware”. In an era when talking about societal issues came with a certain stigma in the entertainment business, Serling tackled the problems head on, even if he sometimes had to make allegories for them through sci-fi and other speculative fiction. His anti-war activism and firm believe in racial and gender equality lined up perfectly with the young Martin’s views, and when Martin first took a creative writing class with Serling as a freshman, both became convinced that they had made contact with one of the great artistic minds of each of their respective generations. Martin adored Serling’s socially conscious writing, particularly on war, as Martin would go on to be a conscientious objector, refusing to fight in the War in Cambodia on philosophical grounds. (Martin would instead perform two years of alternate service work as a VISTA volunteer from 1972 - 1974.) Serling, for his part, cherished Martin’s capacity for capturing what William Faulkner called “the human heart in conflict with itself” and encouraged him to write more cerebral, character driven pieces in addition to his already gripping, action filled plots.
After finishing Serling’s class with an easy and happily earned A, Martin would cultivate a treasured friendship with his professor, taking just about every class Serling offered at Ithaca College, and making an effort to meet with him during office hours so that they could share writing that they had been working on with each other, and offer feedback, critiques, and advice. Some of Martin’s suggestions would eventually make it into Serling’s
The Man, a 1972 film about racial equality, in which an African American Senator, played by James Earl Jones, ascends to the Presidency of the United States via succession, which was an especially pertinent topic the year it was released, due to the assassination of President Romney in the real world. The film would be nominated for an Academy Award for Best Adapted Screenplay, though it would ultimately lose out to
The Godfather. In return, Serling gave Martin pointers on “The Hero”, a short story of Martin’s which became his first commercially published work when it was bought by Galaxy magazine and published in its February 1971 issue. Martin would also credit Serling for helping him brainstorm the idea which would ultimately become “With Morning Comes Mistfall”, Martin’s first story to be nominated for Science Fiction’s coveted Hugo Award in 1973. Martin graduated
summa cum laude with a Bachelor’s Degree in English Literature and Creative Writing from Ithaca in 1970, and would go on to complete his Masters in that field the following year. Because his VISTA volunteer work brought him away from Ithaca, Martin was forced to say goodbye to his aging friend, Rod. The two remained close however, and Martin would continue to correspond with Serling by letter until the latter’s passing from a smoking-related heart attack in May of 1975. By this time, Martin had gotten a job teaching as a creative writing professor himself at the State University of New York at Geneseo to help supplement his modest, but steady income as an author, and made the journey to Sage Chapel at Cornell University for Serling’s funeral without a second thought on the matter. While saying goodbye to his friend and mentor, Martin had another encounter with a second television icon who would also help pave his way into a future in lucrative speculative fiction.
Gene Roddenberry, the screenwriter and television producer most famous for being the creator of
Star Trek, was a longtime fan, acquaintance, and admirer of Rod Serling, and though it was a considerable effort to venture out to western New York from his home in Los Angeles, Roddenberry knew it was a trip he felt that he had to make. The trip would wind up proving quite professionally fruitful, as well as personally fulfilling. By mid 1975, Roddenberry was knee deep in production headaches over the forthcoming, much-anticipated program
Star Trek: Phase II. As if disagreements with the network heads over everything from casting, to plot points of the planned pilot episode, to the specific amounts laid out in the budget weren’t enough, Roddenberry was also suffering tremendously from a lack of writing staff for his new show. The
Star Trek creator did have dozens of applicants for positions on the team, but many of their writing samples he dismissed as “cliche”, “overwrought”, and “tacky”. What he really wanted for his franchise’s second coming was to push the envelope even further than the original had. He wanted a staff that understood and wrote to real social issues and understood character conflict in a meaningful way, needless to say, he was much impressed with the fiction of a young George R.R. Martin, especially Martin’s first novel,
Dying of the Light, which was released in the Spring of 1975. Though only modestly successful, the novel nonetheless earned Martin a tidy sum of royalties and brought him to the attention of Gene Roddenberry, who remembered his name from some of his own earlier letters with Rod Serling. After Serling’s funeral, Roddenberry asked the young English Professor and writer if he could take him to a nearby cafe for coffee or anything. Martin agreed, and as they sipped from their cups, Roddenberry complimented Martin on what he believed to be his “complex storylines, fascinating characters, great dialogue, and perfect pacing” as demonstrated in his fiction. Martin was deeply grateful for the praise, especially coming from the creator of one of his favorite television shows. He was even more blown away by what Roddenberry had to say next.
“George, I want you to come work with me on
Star Trek: Phase II in Los Angeles.” The older man’s voice was like that of a much younger artist, filled with passion, vigor, and excitement. “I think you’d be perfect to help develop my vision for the program.”
“My goodness, Gene. I’m at a loss for words.” He paused, flabbergasted, and tried to think, but found that he could not. “I don’t know what to say!”
Roddenberry beamed. “Then say yes, damn it! I need writers like you.”
Martin asked for a day to consider it, and talk it over with Tish Rabe, his fiance and fellow Ithaca alum, who herself was trying to make it in the publishing business as a children’s author. Though he enjoyed teaching, Martin could tell that his true passion came in writing short stories and novels, and he believed that moving to LA and getting his foot in the door in television could be one way for his future work to have an easier time being published. If he could also make a name as a screenwriter, as his mentor Rod Serling did, than all the better for it as well. Tish agreed, and her approval settled it for him. George called Roddenberry at his hotel the next day and gave him his answer. “Gene, I’m in.”
...
The aptly named “King of Horror”, Stephen King also had a slow, difficult start to what would ultimately become a prolific career in fiction writing. King sold his first professional short story, “The Glass Floor” to
Startling Mystery Stories in 1967, but his earnings from it were next to nothing. After graduating from the University of Maine, King earned a certificate to teach High School English, but initially encountered difficulty in finding a placement. He was so broke in the first few years after college that he didn’t have enough cash to pay off a $250 petty larceny fine after being arrested for driving over a traffic cone. Thankfully, he received a last minute paycheck for his story, “The Float” and was able to pay the fine, avoiding jail time. Finally, in 1971, King found a job as an English teacher at Hampden Academy in Hampden, Maine. During his time there, he would continue to write and publish short stories, work on ideas for novels, and volunteer for Maine Senator Edmund Muskie’s campaign for the Democratic Nomination for President in 1972. The following year,
Carrie became King’s first novel to be published, though it was the fourth one that he had written.
Composed on a portable typewriter belonging to his wife, Tabitha,
Carrie began its life as a short story King was writing for
Cavalier magazine, but after a discouraging spell of writer’s block, King attempted to discard his idea by tossing its first three pages in a garbage can. His wife refused to let him do so, however, and encouraged him to finish the idea, promising to help him write from the feminine perspective. King reluctantly agreed and wound up finishing the story by expanding it into an epistolary novel. He and Tabitha were in such dire financial straits that when
Carrie was picked up by Doubleday Books to be published, the phone line in their trailer had been disconnected, and it would be weeks before King would even know his novel had been accepted. He eventually found out via a printed telegram sent to his home by his agent. The agency gave King a forward advance of $2,500, which he used to buy a new Ford Pinto and restore he and Tabitha’s phone to working order. On May 17th, 1973, New American Library bought the paperback rights for $400,000, which King split evenly with Doubleday Publishing in accordance with their contract. Still, $200,000 was nothing to sneeze at. He and Tabitha’s life would finally be more secure.
Carrie would launch Stephen King’s career and become a significant novel in the horror genre in its own right. King would follow up
Carrie with 1975’s
Second Coming, a novel which wonders what it might look like if Count Dracula settled in a sleepy town in rural Maine; 1977’s
The Shining (which was inspired by he and his family’s new home in Boulder, Colorado); 1978’s
The Stand; and the beginning of a new series of novels which would serve as a sort of fusion between Tolkien’s Middle Earth and the American Wild West as depicted in the films of Clint Eastwood and Sergio Leone.
The Dark Tower series, as it came to be known, would become a fan favorite among King devotee’s, and its hero, Roland Deschain, would eventually receive a fitting small screen treatment in one of the most acclaimed HBO series of all time,
The Gunslinger in 2009 (in which he is played by Irish Actor Iain Glen).
Over the course of its decades-long publishing history,
The Dark Tower would become, arguably, King’s masterpiece, a poignant, imaginative epic which the New York Times would call “an imposing example of true storytelling at its finest.” Unfortunately, success also came at something of a cost for King. As the 1970’s wore on, he developed what would ultimately become a horrific drinking problem, which would only get worse following his mother’s passing of uterine cancer in 1974. King would later recall that his problem got so bad that he delivered his mother’s eulogy totally drunk. Though he would eventually overcome his demons and get sober for good, alcohol and drug addiction dominated King’s life throughout the rest of the 1970’s.
Next Time on Blue Skies in Camelot: SDUSA for Udall, the First Family
Their fourth studio album, A Night at the Opera was released ITTL on Apple Records in November of 1975, after Queen had opened for the Beatles and Elton John on the three acts' combined tour of the US and UK throughout the year. "Bohemian Rhapsody", "Love of My Life", and "You're My Best Friend" were the biggest hits from the record, and the band hopes to keep chugging along and capitalize on their success. 
