My story, “The Six Hundred Dollar Man,” received a favorable review by Lototy over at Coffee Time Romance. Check out her review here; she really understood the message of the story, and knows how to craft a fine review.
I don’t know if Lototy even likes coffee, but someone should buy her an urn-full. Someone like—
Poseidon’s Scribe
You may have some difficulty reading this, since you’ve been dead for over 21 years, but I hope somehow this tribute finds its way to you nonetheless. I just wanted to say thanks, however belatedly, for your books and the way they influenced me.
I started reading science fiction in the early 1970s, and by then you were a giant in the field. I read dozens of your short stories, and some of your novels including Foundation, Fantastic Voyage, The Gods Themselves, The End of Eternity, The Naked Sun, and others. Later I read some of your nonfiction books and essays and some of your non-SF fiction, including The Union Club Mysteries and Azazel.
In fact, I read more stories written by you than by any other author. (Of course, there are more stories written by you than any other SF author!)
In the late 1980s or very early 1990s I had the opportunity to attend one of your speeches—a great thrill for me since I was then thinking of becoming a writer. You had traveled (by train, of course, since you never flew) to my area to speak in a lecture hall.
Alone on stage, you began speaking in your thick Brooklyn accent. “I’ve done a number of these things already, so to save time, I’ll ask the questions you would ask, and then answer them. First question: Dr. Asimov, how did you come to write so many books? Well, I type ninety words a minute and before I knew it, I’d written five hundred books. If someone wants a 5000 word short story, I type 5000 words and stop; with any luck, I’m at the end of a sentence.”
You gave advice to budding writers like me that day also. “My first draft is my final draft. I don’t believe in rubbing words together until they sparkle in the sunlight. As my good friend, the late Bob Heinlein said, ‘They didn’t want it good; they wanted it Wednesday.’”
It was a great hour-long lecture, and you kept the audience laughing the whole time. But that was just one hour. Your impact on my life goes much deeper.
Your SF stories are based on sound science, and your characters confront bedeviling problems that spring from unalterable facts. The science is a central part of each story. I’ve strived for that in my stories as well.
Moreover, your tales are celebrations of science. I don’t recall any stories where science leads humanity irrevocably astray. Even your dystopian works end with hope for the future. That’s true of my writing, too.
Others have spoken of your clear, uncluttered style of writing, and you’ve acknowledged that yourself. My critique group tells me my style is similar at times.
Looking back over the list of my published short stories, I think I can see your influence in each one, to some extent. Alas, I don’t type ninety words a minute, and I labor over several drafts, so I will never equal the quantity of your output. But it’s my dream to write a story someday that approaches the quality of your fiction.
Here’s to you, Dr. Isaac Asimov! Thank you.
Steven R. Southard
aka
Poseidon’s Scribe
How can you cause your readers to cry? No, I don’t mean crying about having bought your book. That’s easy. I want to explore how you should write so as to cause readers to experience a powerful emotional reaction, one you actually intend to cause. It need not be sadness, but any powerful reaction.
I can’t find the precise quote, but Isaac Asimov once said the aim of writing good fiction is to maximize the emotional response of the reader. That makes it sound so mathematical; simply take the multi-dimensional equation for reader emotional response, select the right combination of character, setting, and plot variables that result in a local maximum in the solution surface.
Right.
Except there is no equation, and none of those story elements are numbers. In fairness to Dr. Asimov, I’m pretty sure he knew that too.
But what if we looked at this another way? Maybe there’s some trick or shortcut that always works, some valve in the human psyche you can turn with just the right words, and cause tears to flow.
Consider the singer and composer Adele, and her song, “Someone Like You.” That song has a reputation for causing listeners to cry. What is it about that song?
Over two decades ago, Dr. John Sloboda, a British psychologist, studied the phenomenon of music making people cry and concluded most of the sob-inducing passages (including, it now turns out, “Someone Like You”) contained a common element.
That common element is known to music scholars as an appoggiatura. It basically involves delaying the resolution of a melody through use of an interfering note that creates a brief emotional tension prior to completing the melodic phrase with its logical conclusion. There’s more to the definition, but I wanted to convey that this is a single, simple musical technique.
Really? That’s all there is to it? Composers have a simple trick by which they can make us cry, and there’s nothing we can do about it? Of course it’s not that simple. Appoggiaturas may be a part of it, but there’s also something about how the rest of the melody flows, the singer’s voice, and the powerful meaning of the words. I believe it’s the combination of all those things that brings magic to “Someone Like You.”
Getting back to writing…is there, then, some formula for writing fiction that makes readers cry? For us authors, where is our appoggiatura? Here are some things that might work, but this can’t be an exhaustive list:
I don’t know of any scientific studies of books that make people cry, analogous to Dr. Sloboda’s studies of music, but I suspect the above elements might be common features in anyone’s list of tear-prompting literature.
Please leave a comment on all this, if you can pull yourself together. With a box of tissues by my side, I’m—
Poseidon’s Scribe
Author Tom Clancy died earlier this week on October 2nd at the age of just 66. During his writing career he reinvented and popularized the genre known as the techno-thriller.
You can read all about Clancy’s life elsewhere; my purpose today is to mention how he and his work influenced me.
When his first book, The Hunt for Red October was published in 1984, I was completing my first (and last) tour as an officer aboard a submarine and headed for two years of shore duty.
The novel didn’t really become popular at first, but the publisher, U.S. Naval Institute Press, was used to leaving books out and available for longer periods than traditional fiction presses were. Good thing, too, because the book eventually caught on and became a best-seller.
The U.S. Navy benefited from that novel, I think, because it popularized the military at a time when it still suffered from the post-Vietnam stigma, and it rode the wave of the expansion of the military led by then-President Reagan. It was a heady time for the submarine service.
I recall a cartoon at the time depicting a young woman addressing a naval officer seated at a bar table, drinking beer. He wore sunglasses and had winged aviation insignia on his uniform. She was asking, “Are you a submariner, like those guys in Red October?” and he responded, “Yeah, babe.” The caption read, “The first recorded instance of an aviator impersonating a submariner.”
I enjoyed the book, and my familiarity with submarines probably heightened my appreciation for it. I went on to read the first six of Clancy’s books, through The Sum of All Fears. Although Hunt is the shortest of his works (I think), readers should not be intimidated by the length of his novels, for they are split up into short sections and chapters, and Clancy writes with considerable tension so that you won’t want to stop reading.
In the mid 1990’s, when Tom Clancy’s fame was assured, he actually spoke to the local writing group in my area, of which I was a member. He waived his usual speaking fee, which was probably thousands of dollars. Unfortunately for me, I was away on travel for my day job at that time and missed his talk. I heard it went well and that he was inspiring.
As I mentioned, Clancy took the genre of techno-thriller to new heights. Some complain about the lengthy paragraphs he devotes to describing how technology works. But as an engineer, I never minded that. I disagree with those who assert that technology itself becomes a character in Clancy’s novels. He well knew that people operate technology, and he created memorable characters who had been well trained to work with the sophisticated equipment.
In fact, Clancy lavished much attention on those lowest in the military hierarchy. His novels are filled with enlisted men from humble backgrounds who operate complex machinery with skill and great competence. I think he greatly admired American enlisted men and women, and at one point I believe he said they were the real difference between the U.S. and Soviet militaries. He said you’d expect officers from both countries to be top-notch, and they were, but it’s the American enlisted who far exceeded their Soviet counterparts.
Almost all of my stories deal with characters grappling with technology, too. Moreover, many of my characters are low on the social pecking order, as are Clancy’s enlisted characters. None of my works can be called techno-thrillers, but I think Clancy’s works did influence mine in some way.
Rest in peace, Mr. Clancy, and thanks for the pulse-pounding excitement! You gave many enjoyable hours to millions, and to—
Poseidon’s Scribe
I’m pleased to welcome author Kelly A. Harmon to the world of Poseidon’s Scribe. Kelly writes epic fantasy, urban fantasy, and science fiction.
A former newspaper reporter, Kelly says she “used to write truthful, honest stories about authors and thespians, senators and statesmen, movie stars and murderers. Now she writes lies, which is infinitely more satisfying, but lacks the convenience of doorstep delivery, especially on rainy days.”
Among her many enjoyable stories are “The Dragon’s Clause” and “Blood Soup.”
“The Dragon’s Clause:” For hundreds of years, the city-state of San Marino has paid tribute to the dragon living beneath their mountain city. But humans are forgetful, and no one alive has ever seen the dragon. Though a contract exists, the people feel they are just throwing their money away. Find out what happens when the city residents renege on their contract with the dragon.
“Blood Soup:” Danger awaits the Kingdom of Borgund if a woman fails to take the throne. When the pregnant Queen finally gives birth, the king faces a terrible choice. Will he choose wisely or doom the kingdom to ruin?
I read and loved both these stories, and posted reviews here and here. And now for the interview:
Poseidon’s Scribe: When and why did you begin writing fiction?
Kelly A. Harmon: I’ve been writing all my life. Seriously. I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t writing a story.
As for the why of it: because I can’t not. I’ve taken little vacations from writing, but, like some crazy illness, I can’t get away from it. There’s actually a Latin phrase for this: Cacoethes Scribendi. The phrase comes from the Juvenal’s Satires, wherein he states, “Tenet insanabile multos scribendi cacoethes.” “The incurable desire for writing affects many.” My first Web site was called Cacoethes Scribendi.
P.S.: What are the easiest, and the most difficult, aspects of writing for you?
K.H.: It’s all easy…and it’s all hard. Some days are just easier than others. Writing is easier when I know where the story is going: words just seem to flow. The difficulties come when I want to write about something, but don’t have a clear picture in my mind. When that happens, I put the story away and work on something else until I have time to think about it.
P.S.: What inspired you to write “Blood Soup” and “The Dragon’s Clause?”
K.H.: “Blood Soup” is the product of the 3-day novel contest. I wanted to see if I could write a story in three days. The rules allowed you to plot the novel before you started, so I had a little cribsheet—a postcard actually—with a series of scenes I wanted to write. I got all the way to the last day, when you’re supposed to mail it off to the judges…and a thunderstorm rolled through the area and blacked out my power for over an hour. I was devastated! But it came back on before the deadline and I was able to submit. I submitted a finished novel, but it didn’t win one of the big-three prizes. However, “Blood Soup” did go on to win first place in the Fantasy Gazetteers contest and was published later than year by an unaffiliated publisher.
“The Dragon’s Clause” is one of my favorite short stories! I wrote it on spec for an anthology, and was tickled pink when it was accepted. It was clearly a case of, “I want to be published there…what can I write?”
P.S.: What is the audience you’re trying to reach in your stories?
K.H.: Honestly, I write for myself. I strive to write well, and I’m always looking to improve, but I’d write whether or not there was an audience. (See: Cacoethes Scribendi). However, I hope my novels appeal to anyone who enjoys escape. I’d like to entertain more than anything.
P.S.: What are your favorite genres to write in?
K.H.: Six months ago I would have said epic fantasy unequivocally. However, I’m starting to write some contemporary urban fantasy, and it’s a lot of fun. Look for a book or maybe two by the end of the year.
P.S.: In your opinion, why does the fantasy genre seem to have such staying power?
K.H.: I think there are a lot of reasons people like fantasy: most of the tropes are familiar—old English settings, for example, though a lot of really good fantasy breaks out of that mold—and people are comfortable with it. It’s easily relatable with a lot of magic and excitement tossed in. It’s definitely escapist.
P.S.: Every Friday, your blog features prompts for fiction writers; do you find you need a prompt to get going with a story?
K.H.: I find that I don’t need a prompt to write, but I sometimes like to use one. I have enough story ideas to write for a lifetime, but a prompt is very useful in sidetracking my brain to think in a different way. I might use a prompt or two to see where it might lead me in my current work in progress or to start a short story. I find prompts especially useful for creating short story plots.
P.S.: What is your current writing project?
K.H.: I’m busy, busy, busy! I’m in the process of getting all my previously published short stories back into print and electronic—including a collection or two which will contain some stories not yet published. I’m finalizing edits on a novel—which I’ve received an offer on. If I decide to sign the contract, you’ll see it in early 2015. I’m also working on the third book of a sexy urban fantasy. The first in the series is on the desk of an editor right now, and I’m working on edits of the 2nd.
P.S.: What advice can you offer to aspiring writers?
K.H.: Write every day. Don’t wait for inspiration. Listen to criticism, but be true to your voice.
Thank you very much, Kelly! The entire staff at Poseidon’s Scribe wishes you every success. My readers can find out more about Kelly A. Harmon at her website, on Facebook, and on Twitter. Her author site at Amazon.com is here.
Poseidon’s Scribe
Earlier I blogged about writer’s block, but focused on symptoms and causes. Today, let’s talk about getting over it.
As before, I’ll limit the discussion to minor writer’s block (minWB), the short-term state of being stuck while in the middle of a writing project. I’ll blog about Major Writer’s Block (MajWB) another time.
My many fans—both of them, actually, including my Dad—will recall that I stated there are several types of minWB, which I divided as follows:
I also stated that if you pinpoint which problem you have, that suggests a cure. For story-related problems such as plot, character, setting, or others, here are a few things you can try: (1) set the story aside awhile and let your subconscious (your muse) work on the problem, (2) try sketching a mind-map of the problem and creatively come up with multiple solutions, then select the best, or (3) ask your critique group or beta reader for help.
The craft-related problems all boil down to matters of attitude leading to negative mental associations, leading to stress. Since one type of craft-related problem is the pressure of the audience seeming too close, I have to point out what some might consider a contradiction in the advice I, Poseidon’s Scribe, have given out. In this blog entry I suggested, if you’re feeling the ‘presence’ of the reader too intensely, just forget about that audience and write freely for yourself.
However, just two weeks ago I urged you to keep the reader in mind, always.
Which advice is right—ignore the reader or be ever mindful of the reader?
(Aside: witness the clever way I get out of this paradox.)
I was right both times. In general, it is always wise to acknowledge that you’re writing to be read by others. Therefore, you should write with precision, avoiding ambiguity, so as to be understood. But if the fear of being criticized or disliked is paralyzing you into inaction, if the anticipation of bad reviews leaves you trembling before your keyboard, then forget about those readers for a while. Ignore them during your early drafts and focus on getting your story done.
Then in the later drafts, I suggest you visualize yourself as a sort of super-editor, far more critical of your own work than any reader could be, and yet able to fix every problem you find. In this way, you minimize your fear of the reader and substitute confidence in yourself.
That ‘visualization’ method may work for many of the minWB craft-related problems, by imagining a near-future version of yourself having already overcome the problem and working steadily on the story. Visualize yourself being in the flow, and once again gripped by the same enthusiasm you had when you first conceived the story idea. In this way you can change the mental linkages you’ve developed and re-associate writing with fun, success, and confidence rather than stress, fatigue, and inadequacy.
As to the last category of minWB, that of personal problems such as illness, depression, relationship difficulties, or financial woes, you need to confront those problems head-on first. Until you have a plan for solving them, and start to execute that plan, it will be tough to concentrate on writing.
Do these suggested cures work for you? Do you know of others I should have recommended? Unblock yourself and leave a comment for—
Poseidon’s Scribe
It saddens me to report that author Ann (A.C.) Crispin died a few days ago, on September 6. Before I discuss my connection with her, I should give you a brief bio.
A.C. Crispin was a science fiction writer who established herself with “tie-in” novels delving into the characters of established universes of Star Trek, Star Wars, the V miniseries, and others. She also created her own Starbridge series of novels.
Angered at how some agents, editors, and publishers cheat beginning writers, Crispin co-founded a group called Writer Beware in 1998 to both warn writers and to help law enforcement agencies prosecute scam artists.
I don’t know exactly when, perhaps ten or fifteen years ago, I enrolled in a creative writing course at my local community college. A.C. Crispin taught it. I recall her being a tough teacher, direct and honest with those whom she thought should consider non-writing pursuits. She usually said encouraging things to me about the homework I submitted, though.
A.C. Cripsin’s lectures contained references to the great works of literature, and she’d look around the class for flashes of recognition. When she didn’t see any, she admonished us to read the classics if we wanted to write well.
She asked us all a question on the first day of class that has stuck with me. None of us answered it correctly, and she’s written about the question in her essay, “The Key to Making Your Characters Believable.”
If the protagonist of any of your stories saw you walking along the street, and recognized you as the writer, what would he or she do upon meeting you? The answer, if you’ve done your job properly, is the protagonist would punch you in the nose. After all, your story drags that protagonist through bad and progressively worse situations. You’ve challenged that protagonist with tests of character that force him or her to confront deep, inner beliefs or fears. Perhaps in addition, you’ve pitted the world against your protagonist, multiplying the external problems that character must face. No wonder that protagonist is furious with you!
While you cowered from the rain of your creation’s blows, your nose bleeding, you’d be blubbering that you had to do it, you were forced put the protagonist through Hell for the readers’ benefit, to make a compelling story. That would probably sound pretty hollow to your character, I suspect.
Luckily, your fictional creations won’t be meeting you on the street or in any dark alleys. You are free to force them to crawl through mud and gore, to confront giant monsters, to face their deepest terrors, to suffer the despair of lost love. All with complete impunity. Go ahead; they can’t strike back, and your readers expect you to write stories like that. That was A.C. Crispin’s message to the class.
Goodbye, Ann Crispin, and thank you. Not only did you touch readers with your novels, you protected budding authors through your Writer Beware group, and inspired many beginning scribblers, like—
Poseidon’s Scribe
Just a few thoughts today about the relationship between writers like you and the readers you aim to delight. Much of this will sound simplistic, but if you hang with me, perhaps we’ll both learn something.
Years ago I took a classroom course in communication. In essence, all communication is an attempt to convey one or more ideas from one mind to another, the trouble being that there are all sorts of filters in between so communication is never perfect. In the class they asked, “Given that there’s a person transmitting and a person receiving, who is responsible for the quality of the communication?”
It’s not necessarily the transmitter, nor the receiver. The Zen-like answer they were looking for is you. Whether you are the transmitter or receiver, you need to strive toward a clear conveyance of the idea from one mind to another.
When we consider writing, it’s different from other forms of communication. Some forms, like talking, dramatic plays, stand-up comedy, or musical concerts have an advantage in that the receiver is present in the room with the transmitter. The transmitter gets instant visual feedback about the quality of the communication, allowing her to alter her approach in real-time to improve it.
Obviously that’s not the case with writing. The writer and reader are almost never present in the same room. In fact, thanks to the permanence of the medium, the writer need not even be alive when the communication takes place. The writer gets no immediate feedback from the reader, and certainly cannot adjust the communication on the fly.
So the measure of your success as a fiction writer is how well you transfer emotionally appealing ideas from your mind to the reader’s with minimal loss of clarity. Using written words alone, you must convey the following things I’ve discussed in earlier blog posts:
It should be apparent, then, that you must keep the reader ever in your mind as you write. Form a mental picture of someone reading your story. That clever turn of phrase you’re so proud of—would a reader stumble over it? That little plot detour you stuck in to show off your knowledge of some arcane fact—will it bore the reader? You must be willing to sacrifice them all for the reader.
In the end, only readers can determine the quality of your story. Editors can’t; reviewers can’t. Certainly you can’t. Readers are your customers, and the customer is always right.
I mentioned that fiction writers don’t get immediate reader feedback, and that’s true. However, you will get valuable delayed feedback that is useful for altering your approach in later stories. This feedback comes in several possible ways:
All of these can be useful for improving your writing, making that mind-to-mind communication as clear and enjoyable as possible. Speaking of feedback, I’d welcome some concerning this blog post, so feel free to comment. With my mind full of imagined readers, I’m—
Poseidon’s Scribe
When George Villiers, the 2nd Duke of Buckingham wrote those words for his play “The Rehearsal” in 1663, I believe he had today’s blog post in mind. For, ay, I intend to discuss how to plot a story.
First, what is a plot? It is simply a series of connected fictional events. Here are two rules about these events:
1. In a non-humorous story, the connections between events should be logical, with a minimum of lucky coincidences; the events should be related by cause and effect.
2. To make your story appealing to readers, there should be a certain structure to these events. That is, experience has shown this particular plot structure (sometimes called a “dramatic arc”) to have a maximum emotional impact.
But how are rules 1 and 2 related? What does it mean to have a cause-and-effect chain of events that rises and falls? Think of it this way. Your story must have a protagonist with a problem, a conflict of some kind. Often there is both an external and internal conflict.
I’ve said before that stories are about the human condition. More specifically, stories show human ways of dealing with problems. It may seem strange to generalize that way, but without a problem or conflict, you have no story. Even if there are no humans in your tale, your non-human characters are really just standing in for people.
Back to plotting. Think of the series of events (Rule 1) as events showing your protagonist encountering an initial obstacle, overcoming it, then encountering a worse one, overcoming that one, etc. Each obstacle thrown at her causes her to struggle against it. Her struggle causes the antagonist (which may be a person or nature or anything) to oppose her even more. That’s what Villiers described as a plot thickening.
Think of the dramatic arc (Rule 2) as a portrayal of the increasing difficulties for your protagonist as she contends with her problems. Tensions should increase in this section, culminating in a climactic turning point. There she must confront both her external and internal problems. The remaining events convey the resolution of the conflict and represent a decrease in tension.
Although I’ve geared this discussion to short stories, all fiction is similar. Screenwriter H. R. D’Costa has written a wonderful blog post providing the secrets of movie plot structures.
Oh, one more thing about problems and resolutions—if you have a problem with what I’ve said in this blog post, leave a comment and I’ll try to resolve it. I also accept praise by the heapful. I’ll close by saying, Ay, now the plot’s been thickened by—
Poseidon’s Scribe
As a writer, where do you get your inspiration? To what or whom do you appeal for the creativity you need?
I have a strange confession to make. Every weekday, I happen to walk by a statue. Rather than just glance at it, I make a silent wish that the spirit of the man represented will imbue me with the creativity and talent I need for whatever story I’m working on at the time.
Silly? Perhaps. But you have to admit there’s something about statues. At the U.S. Naval Academy, there’s a statue representing the figurehead of the old USS Delaware, a chief of the Delaware tribe the midshipmen call “Tecumseh.” The midshipman toss pennies at the statue as a wish for good luck in upcoming examinations.
But the statue I pass by twice daily is different. It’s a representation of the American composer, the director of the Marine Corps Band, the ‘March King,’ John Philip Sousa. The statue’s pedestal bears the only word necessary, “Sousa,” though in my ritual, I call it J.P. The sculptor captured him in the act of directing, left hand pointing to a section of the band, right hand gripping the raised baton, head tilted as he enjoys the music.
How, you’re asking yourself, can a writer draw inspiration from a statue of a music composer? For one thing, there are no statues of writers along the path I walk. Secondly, composing music has much in common with writing. Music, they say, is the language of the soul. Both require creativity and both demand years for the talent to develop.
I’ve blogged before about the benefit of tangible symbols to use for motivation. If you can come to see the symbol as urging you towards betterment, prodding you to sit in the chair and write, exhorting you to be as good at writing fiction as you can be, then it will always be there for you, a steady and unchanging inspiration.
Do you have a statue or other symbol you use for motivation? Let me know. Do you think the whole idea is crazy, that it’s the height of foolishness to assume a statue has the power to grant fiction-writing prowess if one only pleads to it? Leave me a comment. In the meantime, many thanks to J.P. for being a great inspiration to—
Poseidon’s Scribe