It's time to close out this issue in the way that we started, back in southern
California for a remembrance of Robert Bloch by a fan friend. By the time this
issue of Mimosa is published, it will be just about a year since the science
fiction world said its good-byes to Robert Bloch. Unfortunately, many of us didn't
know him very well -- although Robert Bloch was a fairly active fan in the 1950s,
his fan activities had pretty much wound down before many of today's generation of
fans became active. The following article provides some insights into his unique
character.

In 1951, Robert Bloch, author of
Psycho, served as master of ceremonies at the New Orleans World Science
Fiction Convention. We met then.

On September 4, 1994, I visited
Bloch in his home atop Lookout Mountain. We parted there. He died three weeks
later of cancer.

More than thirty years ago, and
shortly after Hitchcock's movie version of Psycho, I had interviewed Bloch
on that same hilltop, and offer the following as a small glimpse into the life,
philosophy, humor, and wonder of this gentle man.

Bloch claimed to be an
overcompensated writer. "The things I've written and done are just strong
overcompensations for weaknesses. I am lazy, introverted, insecure, and self
centered. I fight these weaknesses by going to the other extreme." (Sound
familiar? Most writers escape through their work.)

"I'm scared of people" -- I never
could tell if Bob were being serious in his conversation! -- "so I deal indirectly
with them through fiction or separated by footlights. I compensate for my laziness
by a disciplined work schedule. I fight my introversion by speaking before
groups."

Were these all the motivations and
rationalizations that made up this writer? No, Bloch was a delightful enigma, a
puzzlement, maybe even a split personality. He wrote horror fantasy, but in person,
he was the antithesis of the characters he created. He was long and slim with a
kind face and a benevolent smile. He was warm toward animals and small children,
but his stories could include heinous acts against them.

Does writing one thing and being
another make a person into a psychological case history? Does it merely indicate a
vivid imagination? Or was Robert Bloch a unique combination of all these
factors?

Bloch was a prolific writer of
horror/fantasy, short stories, articles, and screenplays. He wrote twenty books,
400 plus short stories and articles, screenplays for Hitchcock and other TV shows
and movies, and never failed to answer a letter or respond to a request for help.
All this output on a manual typewriter, going sixty words a minute, with two
fingers.

He offered pointers for aspiring
writers:

1. Read voraciously. It's food
for your imagination.

2. Live vicariously. You can't
do and write simultaneously.

3. Keep a disciplined writing
schedule.

Bloch gave of himself constantly to
friends, fans, fellow writers, and to his adored wife, Elly.

At the end of that long ago
interview, when asked what animal he'd rather be, he twinkled and said, "A
Galapagos tortoise. They live slothful, long lives, have no natural enemies, and
can mate for up to sixty four hours at a time."

It has been almost a year since Bob
died. I still expect to see a tall, skinny Galapagos tortoise in our local
bookstore!

Title illustration by Diana Harlan Stein
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