As we all know, enthusiasms and skills are often passed from one generation to the next. The expert weaver passes on the craft to the apprentice, anglers pass the hobby on to their children, and the parent may pass on the joy of reading to the child. In science fiction, authors have the opportunity to learn from the masters of the past. You, too, may have been introduced to the joys of science fiction through the works of the field’s masters. Your first book or story recommendations may have come from your own moms and dads.

I first encountered SFWA’s new-est Grand Master, Anne McCaffrey, in my teens when I was spellbound by a reprint of her 1968 Hugo-award-winning “Weyr Search.” The Encyclopedia of Science Fiction describes Ms. McCaffrey’s as a “writer of romantic, heightened tales of adventure explicitly designed to appeal—and make good sense to—a predominantly female adolescent audience.” True perhaps, but I know that Anne’s fiction was brought to my attention by my father. He was as enthralled by that story, and by her 1968 Nebula-award-winning “Dragon Rider,” as I was. I next encountered, and was deeply moved, by The Ship Who Sang. It was my delight, years later, to reprint “The Ship Who Mourned” in one of my own anthologies, and, two years ago, I introduced my ten-year-old to Dragonquest and watched her zip through that novel and The White Dragon. Now she and her friends avidly trade and reread books like Dragonsong and Dragonsinger.

While rows of Anne’s books can be found in bookstores and libraries, meeting her has been a little more difficult. Anne moved to Ireland long before I became active in the SF field. Although our paths have crossed briefly at a few conventions, and I had had the pleasure of meeting her son, the author Todd McCaffrey, I’m not sure if I’d ever had a chance to speak to Anne until this year’s Nebula Awards Ceremony. At a cocktail party beforehand, I congratulated her on the imminent presentation of her Grand Master award and thanked her for her remarkable fiction. I was moved when she showed me a beautiful dragon necklace that had been made for her to mark the occasion by Andre Norton—a wonderful woman, Anne told me, who had deeply influenced her.

Andre Norton died shortly before the Nebulas, but she left behind a stunning legacy. Andre Norton’s first book was published when Anne McCaffrey was six. Her last book is just out. The first works I read by Andre Norton include the haunting “All Cats Are Gray” and Forerunner Foray. Although I never had the opportunity to meet her, the imaginative avenues that she opened for me and for others are legend. We will miss this Grand Master, but her influence and her works remain.

This issue carries on the heritage of fine storytelling. Three of our authors—Frederik Pohl, Brian W. Aldiss, and our regular columnist Robert Silverberg—are also Grand Masters. Brian celebrated his eightieth birthday this past summer, and Fred beat him to that milestone a few years ago. As is evident in the stories here, both men continue to add powerful work to their oeuvres. Andre Norton, Frederik Pohl, Brian W. Aldiss, Anne McCaffrey, and Robert Silverberg helped set the cornerstones of a tradition that constantly reaches out to new readers and continues to produce clear and refreshing new voices. This issue also includes stories by brand-new authors John Phillip Olsen and Lou Antonelli.

Another new writer, Ted Kosmatka, has a story in our next issue. Ted, a laboratory analyst, is a third-generation steel-industry employee. I met him at the Nebulas, too, when I spied his name on his nametag as he walked across the hotel lobby. In turn, he introduced me to his mother—a twenty-year subscriber to Asimov’s. Mrs. Kosmatka passed on her own love of SF to Ted when he was twelve and recovering from a near-fatal bout of meningitis.

As long as we pass on our joy of reading, and of reading SF, to the children, and the children’s children, science fiction writers will continue to influence each other, perfect their skills, and create new stories for generations to come.