Yearly Archives: 1957

Now and Then (my earliest published juvenilia)

The following is a one-page story submitted to Anthony Boucher, the editor of The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, in April 1956, when I was 13, and accepted by him the following month, after a couple of rewrites guided by his suggestions. (The use of the drug “euphorin” was his own idea and invention.) Later that summer, on a family trip to the west coast, we (my parents and one or two of my brothers and I) actually managed to track down Boucher in his Berkeley home (we’d naïvely assumed that the address on his stationary was the magazine’s editorial office) and spent a very pleasant hour or so with him. The story was eventually published in the November 1957 issue (on the last page) and I received a check for $25 for my work. Later the story appeared in Spanish and Japanese translations in foreign editions of the magazine; I still have a copy of each. — J.R.

Now and Then

by Jonathan Rosenbaum

When the time machine started, I realized that I had forgotten to ask the professor its destination. But under the influence of a heavy dose of euphorin, it hardly mattered to me. To escape the tensions of the present, almost everybody I knew was taking the same or similar tranquilizers.… Read more »

The Aged One (1957 poem)

From Junior Scholastic, Vol. 40, No. 15 (May 17, 1957). This poem won first prize in their writing awards, poetry division. My bio in that issue: “JONATHON [sic] ROSENBAUM says his poem grew out of a speech he wrote for his Bar Mitzvah. This is a ceremony at which Jewish boys of 13 enter into the full duties of their religion. He is 14 and attends Florence (Ala.) Junior High. He became interesting in writing at first through drawing comic strips. Now he writes both stories and poems, and his ambition is to become an author.”


As I recall, this poem was submitted to the Junior Scholastic Writing Awards via my home room teacher, who tried changing the last line to, “So begins eternity,” until I protested and got her to change it back.-– J.R.



The Aged One

Along a dark and dusty road

The mighty one does stride, His eyes as endless as the stars,

With no one by his side.

He walks through bright and friendly towns,

He goes through slums and slime…

He goes through all that is or was,

An aged one called Time.

He goes not right, nor left, but straight;

His face a frosty stare –-

Emotionless, and yet he leaves

A feeling in the air.… Read more »