{"id":29,"date":"2013-07-21T07:07:20","date_gmt":"2013-07-21T07:07:20","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/scottsnowden.net\/blog\/?p=29"},"modified":"2026-06-24T23:01:16","modified_gmt":"2026-06-24T23:01:16","slug":"starlog-magazine-saved-my-life","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/scottsnowden.net\/blog\/2013\/07\/21\/starlog-magazine-saved-my-life\/","title":{"rendered":"Starlog magazine saved my life"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<p class=\"has-text-align-left\">My childhood was spent growing up in a quaint, country town on the south coast of England. By far the most important&nbsp;\u2013 and the most exciting&nbsp;\u2013 event in my 13-year-old life was being paid every month for my weekly paper-round. Not because I enjoyed receiving the veritable fortune of \u00a335 for hauling half a ton of newspapers and hiking what felt like a thousand miles every week&#8230;but because&nbsp;it coincided with the last weekend of every month when I could catch the train to the nearest city, Southampton, which to this wide-eyed young&nbsp;boy felt like a virtual metropolis.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-text-align-left\">It would take an hour or so to reach the city centre and then another 20 minutes walking to reach my destination: the biggest newsagent I had ever seen in my life. If I was travelling with friends, they&#8217;d never be able to keep up and chances are I had lost them far behind me by the time I reached the&nbsp;shop door. It didn&#8217;t matter, they all knew where I was racing to. It&#8217;s location on the infinitely long shelves that stretched to the back of the store and beyond was burned into my memory. I could spot it a mile away. There, tucked in and surrounded by other anonymous glossy magazines, was my salvation:&nbsp;<em>Starlog<\/em>. I would sit and read the entire issue cover to cover in the shop even before buying it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<figure class=\"wp-block-image size-large\"><a href=\"https:\/\/scottsnowden.net\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/06\/new-Starlog.jpg\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" width=\"1024\" height=\"695\" src=\"https:\/\/scottsnowden.net\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/06\/new-Starlog-1024x695.jpg\" alt=\"\" class=\"wp-image-2101\" srcset=\"https:\/\/scottsnowden.net\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/06\/new-Starlog-1024x695.jpg 1024w, https:\/\/scottsnowden.net\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/06\/new-Starlog-300x204.jpg 300w, https:\/\/scottsnowden.net\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/06\/new-Starlog-768x521.jpg 768w, https:\/\/scottsnowden.net\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/06\/new-Starlog-1536x1042.jpg 1536w, https:\/\/scottsnowden.net\/blog\/wp-content\/uploads\/2026\/06\/new-Starlog.jpg 1800w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 1024px) 100vw, 1024px\" \/><\/a><\/figure>\n\n\n\n<p class=\"has-text-align-left\">Here was my last hope. It seemed other people, lots of other people&nbsp;\u2013 somewhere in the world, in a distant, faraway land \u2013 appreciated science-fiction and fantasy. I knew one day I would have to travel to this country and find them. My sanity, even my life depended on it. Within the pages of <em>Starlog<\/em> each month were insightful interviews, features on films I had never even heard of and pages of classified adverts offering blueprints of every Federation starship ever designed. This was my only means of contact with a different world that I longed to be part of. Every day for the next month I would read and re-read the whole magazine until, four agonising weeks later, payday arrived once again.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>My childhood was spent growing up in a quaint, country town on the south coast of England. By far the most important&nbsp;\u2013 and the most [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":131,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[2,6],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-29","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-bits","category-featured"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/scottsnowden.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/29","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/scottsnowden.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/scottsnowden.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/scottsnowden.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/scottsnowden.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=29"}],"version-history":[{"count":25,"href":"https:\/\/scottsnowden.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/29\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2102,"href":"https:\/\/scottsnowden.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/29\/revisions\/2102"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/scottsnowden.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/131"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/scottsnowden.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=29"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/scottsnowden.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=29"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/scottsnowden.net\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=29"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}