Sfinx 4: The Authors
Maria Hamilton
computerzombie extraordinaire, was the motivating force behind the
fourth Sfinx, which may explain why it took so long to appear. Her
main identifying marks are "nose, hair and pallor", and her
favourite pastimes are playing `Caterpillars' and doing penguin
impressions. Her greatest interests are eating, sleeping and
keeping warm, preferably all at once. She claims that her story
came out the way it did because she changed the plot half-way
through, which, knowing Maria, seems fairly plausible.
C. M. Holt
is the collective pseudonym of Isaac Asimov, Arthur C.
Clarke, John Varley, Robert A. Heinlein and David Langford,
who we asked to collaborate on a story after they were
unable to write anything meeting Sfinx's high standards on
their own. (S/he is also, for reasons too complicated to go
into here, Neal Tringham from the knees down.) At least,
that's what s/he might have claimed had we been able to get
in touch with him/her, though this is of course only a
guess. An alternative theory is that "But I meant
well..." simply evolved in the closed environment of the
Sfinx back file between issues 3 and 4.
David Upshal
is an aging Trekkie and Zonie currently working for a degree in
Philosophy, Politics and Economics. At least his L.E.A. thinks
he's working; in fact he is turning out Sfinx stories at a rate
to delight the heart of any over-enthusiastic editor (we haven't
even finished typing Sfinx 4 and already Neal is talking excitedly
of Sfinx 5 in time for Conspiracy...). He lists his main influences
as Ray Bradbury, Philip K. Dick, and George Orwell, and his main
interests (outside sf) as politics and sociology. His stories
don't seem to bear this out, but he assures me it's true.
Nick Penfold
wants to adopt a `mysterious stranger' image and
consequently refused to tell us anything about himself other
than name and college. Since one of the editors spent
half-an-hour plus wandering the corridors of Regent's Park
College trying to find out where he lived in order to return
his birth certificate and Premium Bonds holder's card, we
suspect that he has no properties other than
name and college. Circumstantial evidence suggests that he
may be a theologian and/or into discipline, but for the
moment his main characteristic appears to be nonexistence.
D. P. Martin
was born in Spain and raised in Chicago; she did a degree there in
Humanities before coming to Oxford and getting a Diploma in Social
Anthropology. She is currently writing a D.Phil. on two years work
in Japan among Japanese Diving Women (the capitals are hers). A
normal, well-adjusted, intelligent post-graduate student, you might
think. Nevertheless, she writes a lot of sf in her spare time and
once almost fell into the clutches of the Oxford University SF Group;
now fully recovered, she plans to write a book about her experiences.
Neal Tringham
has in many respects fallen under the spell of the
(in)famous Max(TM)
O'Connor since his arrival in Oxford in 1985, though he
persists in having some ideas perhaps best described as
`very silly indeed' - he wishes to stress, though, that
the idea of sentient genitals was not his own. He is
identifiable by his being excessively small and furry, and
the gerbil (Bernadette) strapped to his chest. He is
currently working on a story to be entitled `Revenge Of The
Time Toilet' (plot ideas would be appreciated).
has a reputation for being obsessed with depression, death and decay.
This is, of course, a pack of lies, and the fact that his musical
tastes run to Pink Floyd, Peter Gabriel, Bob Geldof and The The is
completely irrelevant. He prefers cheerful, upbeat films like The Wall
or Brazil. His hobbies include sleeping, being depressed and waging
unending war against the entire Christian Church. He is less small
and furry than Neal, but can be identified by the fact that he is likely
to insult you any minute now, you tasteless idiot. He was also fool
enough to agree to write all this junk, so send the libel writs to
him.