Science Fiction
Rotsler was known in science fiction fandom for his decades as a cartoonist and fan artist, winning five Hugo Awards in that category. He was famously willing to provide artwork for free to even the most obscure or struggling fanzines. Rotsler also devised a sort of friendly "cartoon duel", in which he crossed swords (or, rather, pens) with various other cartoonists, as follows: Rotsler and another cartoonist would each draw some sort of cartoon figure (human, animal or monster) simultaneously, with neither artist knowing what the other was drawing. The two figures would then be placed side by side to form one picture. Rotsler and the other cartoonist would then equip each of the two cartoon figures with a comic-strip "speech" balloon: each cartoonist creating and lettering the cartoon for the other artist's drawing.
Rotsler was known for his spontaneous cartooning, which would appear not only on paper, but on tablecloths, curtains, and anything near him. Hotels were often upset at this at science fiction conventions, and surprised when a "defaced" tablecloth brought in money at auction.
Rotsler came up with the title of Harlan Ellison's famous short story "I Have No Mouth, and I Must Scream." This was taken, with permission, from a caption of a Rotsler cartoon of a rag doll with no mouth.
Rotsler's novelette "Patron of the Arts" was nominated for both the 1972 Nebula award and the 1973 Hugo award.
Rotsler was Fan Guest of Honor at Torcon II (the 1973 Worldcon); winner of the 1977 Down Under Fan Fund; and in 1996 was voted Past President of the Fan Writers of America.
Read more about this topic: William Rotsler
Famous quotes containing the words science and/or fiction:
“We are living now, not in the delicious intoxication induced by the early successes of science, but in a rather grisly morning-after, when it has become apparent that what triumphant science has done hitherto is to improve the means for achieving unimproved or actually deteriorated ends.”
—Aldous Huxley (1894–1963)
“To value the tradition of, and the discipline required for, the craft of fiction seems today pointless. The real Arcadia is a lonely, mountainous plateau, overbouldered and strewn with the skulls of sheep slain for vellum and old bitten pinions that tried to be quills. It’s forty rough miles by mule from Athens, a city where there’s a fair, a movie house, cotton candy.”
—Alexander Theroux (b. 1940)