The Night We Buried Road Dog

Jack Cady, F&SF, and Road Dog ^{By Kristine Kathryn Rusch}

Jack Cady never looked like a stereotypical writer. He looked like a Pacific Northwest fisherman. He had an angular, weather-toughened face, which he accented with a beard but no mustache. His deep voice was authoritative, but his eyes were always kind.

And he was patient—oh, so very patient.

He had to be. When he sent me “The Night We Buried Road Dog,” he walked into the middle of a battle zone. I, the thirty-two-year-old new editor of F&SF, and Edward L. Ferman, the magazine’s former editor and the publisher who had hired me, were in the midst of a war.

I believe that novellas are the heart and soul of fantasy and science fiction at the short length. Ed didn’t like novellas at all—partly (mostly) because they cost so much and took up so much space in the magazine. Jack Cady’s “Road Dog,” which was how we referred to it in-house, was 30,000 words long—exactly half the length of an issue of the magazine.

I controlled content, but Ed controlled the purse strings. Every time I sent Ed a novella, I had to justify both the story’s length and its quality. Fortunately, I had an excellent track record. I edited a novella line for Pulphouse Publishing, the hardcover press I’d helped found, and most of the novellas in that line had been nominated for the major awards in the field.

I had an eye, and I knew it.

But Ed had different priorities. If we were going to publish novellas (and he wasn’t even certain of that), he wanted each novella to be worth the space it took in the magazine. In other words, it had to be better than every other story in the issue. Four to five times better, since it took the space of four to five stories. A novella from an unknown, like Jack Cady was in the sf field in those days, wouldn’t sell magazines, and so wasn’t worth the money.

Valid arguments all. I’ve made similar ones when I’ve worn a publisher’s hat. But “Road Dog” was something special—and I knew it.

“Road Dog” was one of the first novellas I received at F&SF. I loved the story. Ed hated it. So he sat on it—for months—while I fired off letters explaining the situation to Jack Cady, who graciously allowed me to champion his story because he wanted it in the pages of F&SF.

Eventually, Ed gave up. He had learned over the course of our working relationship that I could outlast him. (He didn’t know how many letters I wrote to brilliant writers, asking to hang onto their novellas for another month.)

“Road Dog” became the cover story for the January 1993 issue.

Then the buzz started…. “Road Dog,” reviewers said, was the story of the year. It won the Nebula and World Fantasy awards, among others (a few of them mainstream).

Fast forward to spring, 2008. Jack Cady—one of the kindest, most gentle souls I’ve ever met—is no longer with us. I haven’t edited a word of someone else’s fiction for more than eleven years.

Then Gordon Van Gelder, the publisher and editor of F&SF, sends me an email. Would I pick a story for the sixtieth anniversary that represented my tenure as editor?

Imagine my trepidation as I wrote back: Would “The Night We Buried Road Dog” work? I realize it’s very, very long.

If Gordon had said no, I would have picked another story. A shorter story…. But Gordon didn’t ask for another story. Instead, he said he had hoped I would pick “Road Dog.” He felt it best represented my years at F&SF.

He wanted “Road Dog” for the very reason I did. Quite frankly, I believe “Road Dog” is one of the best stories I’ve ever read, let alone had a small hand in.

How small was my hand? If I remember correctly, I never asked Jack for a revision. I’m not even sure the manuscript received much copyediting. All I did was recognize an excellent story and champion it before my publisher, whose considerations (money and space) differed from mine.

All of the credit for “Road Dog,” however, goes to Jack Cady. Not just for his spectacular writing, but also for his patience.

I miss Jack. He will never write another new story—and that’s a cause for sadness.

But he wrote some spectacular stories during his all-too-brief career.

Fortunately, we can share my favorite right here. Those of you who are reading “Road Dog” for the first time, enjoy…. Those of you who read it more than fifteen years ago, read it again. It’s one of those rare stories that gets better with age.