writing

Almost done…
Almost done…
Almost done…

I haven’t died, just working really hard to finish up the book. More later….

I got an email the other day from a college student, who said he was doing a paper on my work, and would I answer a few questions? Now, if that isn’t flattering, I don’t know what is. I wrote the answers to his questions, then thought—wait, this is blogstuff. (Is that a word? It should be, if it’s not.)

He asked why I became a science fiction writer. My answer:

Because SF was what I always loved to read as a kid, in college, and after college. I got some early encouragement from my family and a couple of teachers, who thought I had some talent for writing. So when I set out to write some stories, it was just natural that I wrote SF. It’s still my favorite form of literature, though I don’t have as much time for reading now as I once did. I love SF because it challenges the mind, stretches the imagination, and takes us to fascinating times and places that we probably won’t get to visit in the flesh. It lets me think about science and art and the human spirit, and a lot of other things, all wrapped up in one. (I also love, as a writer, sticking my characters into strange realities and seeing how they react.)

What’s my favorite book?

Oddly, it’s not SF–it’s fantasy. The Lord of the Rings. I’ve read it at least 15 times. I love Tolkien’s visions, and I love Middle Earth for its magical likeness, and yet distinctiveness from, our own world. I love the mountains of Middle Earth, the forests, the Ents, the elves. And somehow this book hooked me as no other book has in its portrayal of the eternal struggle between good and evil, and the price paid for victory.

Why do I live in New England?

I came East as a college student, and never left. I love the land here, the ocean, the history, the intellectual ferment of all the universities and the culture. And the New England fall–you just can’t beat it.

Thanks, Jeff from Plymouth State University, for giving me a blog topic!

Before I speak on-topic, let me just mention that there’s an interesting exchange of comments on creationism versus evolution going on under the Faith and Rationality piece, which you can scroll down to (or click on, in the right column). [Does anyone know if there’s a way to set this blog so that comments show up with the original posts? Some of your posts are more interesting than mine.]

That said, I want to talk about writing for a bit. The craft, not the business. As readers of this blog know, I’m currently working on a novelization of a big frakking science fiction TV miniseries, and I’ve been intrigued by some of the differences between writing my own stories and writing a story from the screen. There are the obvious things, of course—the plot and dialogue already exist, and while I can elaborate on them where it seems appropriate, I can’t do much to change what’s already up there on the screen. In some cases, this poses minor challenges, such as explaining away scenes that don’t make sense (or have elements that don’t make sense). Less obvious may be the difference in the voice that a novelist uses, compared to the filmmaker’s voice.

For example, take a scene in which the camera moves from one character to another to another, not just showing what is happening, but also revealing (as much as the camera can) the thoughts and feelings of the characters. Sometimes there’s a long tracking shot, in which the camera isn’t just moving among the members of a group, but actually passing
through what you might call mini-scenes, involving groups of characters who aren’t necessarily connected. It can be a very smooth and engaging effect in the film or video. But how do you translate that to narrative prose?

One could, of course, simply jump from viewpoint to viewpoint in quick succession, or adopt an omniscient narrator point of view, where you look into everyone’s thoughts. But I’m not generally a big fan of this kind of voice, which I often find jarring—and which jolts me out of that fine state of suspended disbelief, which is another way of saying it breaks the spell for me. (Tolkien got away with it sometimes, but only because his writing was so powerful in other ways.) I’m personally more comfortable writing, and reading, from one point of view at a time—sharing that one person’s thoughts and no one else’s, at least for the duration of the scene. For me, that lends an immediacy and intimacy to the narrative that the omniscient narrator doesn’t, because we feel that we’re sharing that time, whether it’s long or short, with one individual on stage.

So I’ve chosen that voice, mostly, as I write this story-from-screen. As a result, I’ve been finding myself facing, over and over, unexpected decision points as I start a new scene: whose viewpoint am I going to tell this one in? The answer isn’t always obvious, and I sometimes wonder—would I have written a better scene if I’d chosen a different character? Once in a while, it’s simply been impossible, such as scenes with a bunch of different spacecraft, and no one anchor point to tell it from. In those cases, I’ve tried to tell it the way the camera does—as a free-floating, all-seeing narrator, but limited in what I can tell about what anyone is thinking or feeling. Once or twice, I’ve briefly emulated the long tracking shot. It’s tricky. Very tricky. (Especially when you’re writing fast, under tight deadline!)

I hope you’ll all tell me, next year when the book is out, how well you think I did.

Strange as it may seem, I have a contribution in a new book by country singer Tanya Tucker, called 100 Ways to Beat the Blues. I was the first SF writer to contribute to the book, but not the last. She scored an entry from Sir Arthur C. Clarke, as well.

I haven’t actually seen a physical copy of the book yet, but I know it’s out and available wherever fine books are sold.

Here’s a link to it on Amazon. (If you buy it through my link, I actually get a nickel or two on the deal. Which is not by itself reason enough to buy it. But the strangeness of seeing me in the same book as George H.W. Bush might be.)

The other book you’ll see below is perhaps even odder in the sense of my being in it. Cows: a Rumination is a collection of photographs of…cows…each with a little story, poem, newspaper clipping, etc. One of them is mine. It’s a pretty cool book, I think.