Robert Asprin - Myth-Told Tales

In this collection you will find all the short stories yet written in the world of the Myth Adventures. A few are by Bob Asprin alone, a few by only Jody Nye, but the majority are collaborations between the two authors. Some feature Aahz and Skeeve, others feature such characters as Tananda, Chumley, Guido, and even Gleep. Three of these stories appeared in the chapbook format volume of this same title. One story, "M.Y.T.H. Inc. Instructions," is the only stand-alone story included with a Myth Adventures novel, Something M.Y.T.H. Inc. One other story, "Mything in Dreamland," appeared in Fantasy Masters, a collection of stories by top fantasy writers set in their own worlds. The rest of the stories, about half this book, are new and this is their first appearance anywhere. This is the point where an editor is supposed to say something meaningful about the literary work and its social import. Not on your life; Myth Adventures has always been about being fun to read and laughing along with the characters. So all that needs to be said is: Enjoy!

Editor

"You should work together," one of our well-meaning friends said. You're both funny. You'd be good. I remember that we eyed each other with the same suspicious expression as a couple of cats thrown together by their owners and told to play nice. "Oh, Butch will be nice to Fluffykins! See? They're making friends already," one would say as the cats growl at each other under their breath. Fluffykins is already flexing and unflexing her needle-sharp claws. Butch is baring his teeth. He has a notch out of one ear. His tail switches from side to side. Fluffykins notices this movement and suddenly arches her back. Butch's eyes widen and his ears flatten. There is a discreet blackout.

When the scene reopens, one cat is licking the other's ear. Both are purring. You didn't see what happened in the middle, but let's just call it "staking out of territory." The owners are not looking quite as calm and complacent as they did before, but the cats have become friends, on their own terms.

I'd always been a fan of Bob's. How could I not love some-one whose best-known book was a paraphrase of one of the great comedy catch phrases of all time? And the quotes at the chapter heads made me laugh out loud. The story itself was a picaresque novel worthy of Cervantes. Here, I realized, years before I met him, was someone who'd been steeped in the same comic history I was. I loved his comic timing. I loved his characters. At that time if you'd told me I'd be working with him, that I'd work with any of the amazing people I have since I first read Another Fine Myth, I'd have laughed in bitter disbelief and gone back to my terrifyingly toxic day job.

I knew of Bob through another common interest, the Society for Creative Anachronism. Neither of us are active now, but he'd already retired from the field by the time I joined. Long and storied was the legend of Yang the Nauseating, founder of the Dark Horde and Loyal Opposition to the Crown. "With all due disrespect to Your Majesty," was a phrase I was told he of-ten used in court, where the royals and nobles, who all went back to mundane jobs when they took off their silken raiment, often took themselves too seriously. Bob was the pin that punctured their self-importance.

He was a legendary figure at science fiction conventions, known for singing and playing the guitar at parties and filk sessions, drinking Irish whiskey and occupying the center of the most sought after circle in the bar, and for his prowess with the ladies. You may not know it (or you may; Bob has spread himself about a bit over the years) that he is one of the premier hand-kissers of our time. Almost everyone I knew had a "Bob story." Some were first-hand, but most were urban legends. (I have reason to know some of them are only urban legends.) He and some similarly inclined friends created the Dorsai Irregulars and the Klingon Diplomatic Corps, organizations to which it is considered an honor to belong.

So, steeped in the hype, I trembled when I first met him, at his home in Ann Arbor, Michigan. He and his then - wife Lynn Abbey, good and old friends of my then - fiance (now husband) Bill, did their best to put me at my ease. Both of them are truly kind and hospitable people. Bob and Lynn drew me into the conversation as best they could. I sat goggle-eyed as they talked about their other close friends as if they were just ordinary people. Those names were the stuff of legend to a newcomer like me: Gordon R. Dickson, the "Gordfather" of the Dorsai Irregulars; Wendi and Richard Pini of Elfquest; the great Poul Anderson; C. J. Cherryh; George Takei; and more. At the time they were still editing and writing in the original Thieves' World series, the shared-world anthology that gave shape to all the shared worlds to follow. They'd been everywhere I hoped to go. I was a literary novice, but they treated me like an equal. I adored them for it. Believe me, not everybody who's "made it" is so secure or generous.

Bob and I did have a bunch of things in common. We were the "sensitive" halves of our respective pairs. We're desperately soft touches for cats. We love the great acts of the post-vaudeville movies like the Marx brothers and Laurel and Hardy, and good funny movies in general. We both admire Damon Runyon, whose stories were the basis for the musical Guys and Dolls. We both liked Disney's Sleeping Beauty, though his favorite character was Maleficent and mine was the Fairy Godmothers. We both do needlework (really; he's very good at it). And ... well... we write humor.

When the inevitable suggestion was made that we should re-ally think about doing something together, I was willing. One of the things I admired most about his writing was that he could be funnyvery funnywithout being sickeningly cute or dragging a joke until it died. Though there were elements of slapstick in his stories, the characters weren't stupid. Mistakes are made out of innocence or ignorance. Comic timing evolves out of the situation. He imbued his characters with wisdom, loyalty, and warmth. You would probably like to hang out with them. I would.

Bob came up to our house one January: an act of faith, since he now lives in New Orleans and we live in the suburbs of Chicago. We talked, with Bill standing by as a referee in case things got ugly. They didn't. I gave Bob the respect he deserved for his experience and accomplishments, and he offered me acceptance as an established newcomer. Bill went back to his office to play computer games, and Bob and I started talking ideas.

Our first crack out of the box was an original book, License Invoked (Baen Books). We worked out our story line and characters together, then decided who would write what sections. Books change all the time while they are being written. They develop we hope, for the better. The result was longer than a novel he would usually produce, and shorter than one of mine. The plot ran pretty much along the lines we'd laid out, though the structure and the villains changed a lot. I liked our main characters. It wouldn't bother me a bit to do something else with themlater.

By now, Myth Adventures had lain dormant for a long while. Bob had two books to run on the twelve-book contract with Donning Starblaze, the trade paperback publisher who produced the original Myth Adventures series. Because they'd gone belly-up, years had passed before the rights to books eleven and twelve could be extricated. Once they were released and resold to Meisha Merlin, interest awoke in having still more Myth after book twelve. But, Bob had other projects he wished to work on, so it was suggested that once he finished