The Carpet People was printed in a run of 3,000 copies. It had a black dustwrapper with a central colour image of the creatures of the carpet eating a grain of sugar, again drawn and painted by Pratchett. The hardback boards were two-toned bronze and green, making an attractive, but slim, volume.
Despite the enthusiasm for the book, there were not many reviews. The ones that were printed were very good but they failed to stimulate sales. Most copies of the book were sold to libraries, making fresh, untarnished copies very rare today. Some copies of the book were sold to North America and have the original British price of £1.90 clipped off. These copies are not worth as much as priced UK copies.
Copies of Pratchett’s first novel remained in stock for many years, and were given new price labels until they eventually sold out. Pratchett collectors today keep an eye out for the super-rare copies of the book – no more than a dozen having colour illustrations painted by Pratchett, and only two known to have all the illustrations painted.
Pratchett has described his first novel as ‘The Lord of the Rings of the microscope’, and one can see in The Carpet People how ten years of feasting on fantasy novels had influenced his style.
What is interesting is that the young man didn’t launch himself into a frenzy of novel-writing from then on. He was a journalist and enjoyed his job immensely; the writing of books was just a hobby for winter evenings. He enjoyed drawing and painting too, illustrating his own book being the culmination of a skill that he had started to develop by embarking on an A level in art back at school.
On 28 September 1970, Pratchett moved from the Bucks Free Press to the Western Daily Press. He would return to the Bucks in 1972, but this time as sub-editor. On 3 September 1973 he moved on again, this time to the Bath Evening Chronicle. He was still involved with Colin Smythe Limited, attending occasional book launches and drawing cartoons – he provided a series of cartoons for their monthly journal Psychic Researcher up until 1975. These depicted the work of the fictitious government paranormal research establishment Warlock Hall, and one can imagine that Pratchett would enjoy exercising his satirical flair in these cartoons. Pratchett illustrated about 17 issues of Psychic Researcher and these remain some of his most obscure contributions to this day.
It is important to note Pratchett’s flair for art, from illustrating his first novel and drawing with children at his book launch, through to his cartoons in the Psychic Researcher. Today, the Josh Kirby dustwrappers to his books are eye-catching and as much a part of the Discworld series as the novels themselves, but one can instantly see a Pratchett character in the mind’s eye, as if it has been drawn for you, so one should never underestimate the importance of art in Pratchett’s life.
One could argue that Pratchett didn’t write any fantasy tales during the 1970s. The Carpet People had been written in the late 1960s, and his next novel – his only novel from the 1970s – The Dark Side of the Sun, would be a stab at a science fiction novel. This second book would be written during the evenings and published by Colin Smythe in 1976, shortly after the birth of Pratchett’s daughter Rhianna. The rest of the 1970s saw him continue his career in journalism and bring up his daughter, interspersed with intervals of serious gardening, one of Pratchett’s favourite pastimes. His passion for writing was now the day job, and his priorities had to change slightly with a young family to provide for. So it is interesting, then, that as soon as he gave up journalism, he started writing novels with a passion.
‘He says it gives the place a friendly and open aspect. Friendly and open aspect! I’ve seen keen gardeners break down and cry.’
(Eric)
‘Technically I’m a humanist. I don’t believe in big beards in the sky, but I do believe there is an order.’
Terry Pratchett
While Pink Floyd were content to take you only to ‘The Dark Side of the Moon’, Pratchett took you to The Dark Side of the Sun. OK, Pink Floyd didn’t tell you which moon exactly, but then again Pratchett didn’t tell you which sun.
Although Pratchett had a love affair with the fantasy genre, he also had a clear passion for science fiction too, and his second novel The Dark Side of the Sun showcased that well. Although a slim volume like all his early works (because he was in full-time employment at the time), The Dark Side of the Sun turned as many science fiction clichés on their heads as his first Discworld novel would later do in the fantasy genre.*
Pratchett also drew the illustration for the dustwrapper of The Dark Side of the Sun.
In the 1960s Pratchett had been voraciously reading all the fantasy and science fiction he could and learning his trade as a journalist. By default he had become a writer of short fantasy stories, both at school and through the Uncle Jim column. Also, through Uncle Jim, the Carpet People had been born and the story tightened up for his first novel at the start of the 1970s. So there is a natural progression in Pratchett’s work.
Five years would pass between the publication of The Carpet People (1971) and The Dark Side of the Sun (1976), but one must remember that Pratchett was a professional journalist with a young family and the books were only a hobby. They weren’t generating serious money and wouldn’t until approximately the publication of Mort (1987), just over 20 years after writing his Uncle Jim column, but Pratchett didn’t expect them to.
The 1970s were a crucial part of the process that led to his Discworld books. The Dark Side of the Sun kept his hand in until he gave up journalism at the turn of the 1980s and he had time to write his second science fiction novel, Strata, which was – like The Carpet People – based on a discworld. But before we look at Pratchett’s life after journalism, let us take a look at The Dark Side of the Sun, as it raises some important issues regarding the divide between fantasy and science fiction and, more importantly, where Pratchett sees that divide.
‘The Editor stood up with a sigh. “What a pity it is you’re not a writer of stories!” he said, putting his hand on the Time Traveller’s shoulder.’
HG Wells (The Time Machine)
It is quite clear that fantasy and science fiction have their origins in different places, with different writers, clichés and expectations. The science fiction novel was an extension of the Industrial Revolution, when Victorians began to speculate about the advances of science from the imagination of their scientists and engineers and from discoveries in astronomy. It is a modern genre, as much as the air force is a modern arm of the military. You could go way back and say that the scientists of mediaeval times – the ones who became court physicians and were originally herbalists, druids, wizards and necromancers – were the fulcrum of science fiction/fantasy, and even of speculative fiction in its many forms, because couple all that with knights and romance and you get a fantasy base crying out for dragons and swashbuckling adventure. As Pratchett says: ‘Throw a dragon in a story and everyone will call it fantasy’ (witness Guards! Guards!). There’s truth in this statement, but the earlier genres of gothic, macabre and dark romance – now sub-genres of the wider remit of horror – are more applicable to fantasy than science fiction.
Pratchett believes that science fiction is really a sub-genre of fantasy, but I disagree. One can see where perhaps one genre might split into two distinct genres – but two genres, not one below another. The 19th and 20th centuries constructed a distinct history for each genre, given depth