Retreating to Write

Would you go on a writer’s retreat? I’ve blogged about them before, but that post took the form of a warning to set reasonable expectations for what you’ll accomplish.

This weekend, while on a retreat, I’ll put on a more positive spin and discuss the benefits. I’ve retreated to an old house in a small rural town with three other writers—the members of my critique group. Here’s a view from the house’s balcony.

The house stands an hour and a half away from my home, where I usually write. The perspective, the atmosphere, the ambiance, is different here. I like to think it sends my mind down different grooves and lets my thoughts wander strange and unexplored byways.

There’s something invigorating about being among other writers, too. When not writing, we sit and talk. It’s fun to learn of their struggles and dreams, to celebrate their victories and commiserate over their defeats.

Non-writers have their own hobbies, of course, and join with like-minded hobbyists for weekends away. But their weekends are not like those of writers. If you could be here with us, you’d see us each in our own corner of the house, quietly busy with laptop or pen. At the moment, we’d rather talk to you, our readers, through our written words than to each other through spoken ones.

Does that sound odd? Pathetic? Rude? Introverted? Boring? Perhaps it would, to non-scribblers. To a writer, it is bliss. Here, for one glorious weekend, the urgencies of life do not interrupt, the excuses for not writing are absent, the schedule collapses to just one task.

There’s something too, about a change in perspective. It unshackles the mind. If you always write in the same chair, the same room, the same desk, is it any surprise that each of your stories seems like the others? Similar characters, similar plots, similar settings? For this reason, while writing at home, I sit in different chairs in different rooms. But this retreat, to a location I’ve never been, grants me a fresh outlook.

Retreats come in different flavors, of course. Some are more like writer workshops, with an expert providing occasional instruction. Some are solitary, where the writer goes unaccompanied to a remote locale. Each of these has pros and cons.

Your retreats need not be frequent, or expensive. My group goes only about every two to three years, and never to the same place twice. We’re mindful of costs and share the monetary burden. For us, the point is not to enjoy breathtaking scenery or to visit nearby attractions. All we need is quiet time. That’s worth emphasizing: Quiet. Time. Need ‘em both.

So, writer, consider a retreat. Withdraw from the daily demands of chores, work, and family. View things from a different angle for awhile. Socialize with other writers who strive, like you, to sharpen their scribbling skills. You might find you benefit as much from it as does—

Poseidon’s Scribe

Better Writing through Exhaustion?

Are you more creative when sleepy? Is that the best time for writing rough drafts?

Some research suggests people may perform slightly better on “insight”-type tasks when they’re tired. Writing that first draft of your story might be an insight-type task. Perhaps, when fatigue sets in, you’re more willing to take a chance, to perform a mental leap, to connect disparate thoughts in a novel way.

This study, by Associate Professor Mareike Wieth of Albion College, examined the performance of over 400 students on both analytic and insight tasks. Analytic tasks were straightforward math and logic problems. Insight tasks were problems that seemed, at first, to lack sufficient information, but required a flash of intuitive thought to solve.

According to this article in The Atlantic, the students performed better on analytic tasks at their optimum time of day when properly rested. No surprise there.

However, in the insight tasks, they did 20% better at their non-optimal time of day.

As I understand it, the subjects for the study were college students, not a random sample of people. Also, the insight tasks did not include writing first drafts of fictional stories. I don’t want to infer too much from this study. As all scientists conclude after every study, “more research is required.”

But you’re not interested in research. You’re interested in becoming a better writer, the best writer you can be. When it comes to writing while tired, I suspect your mileage may vary.

It might be worth a few experiments. You could stay up past your normal bedtime and write some first drafts then. Or you could wake up early and scribble out a first draft before starting your morning routine.

Here I’ll add a cautionary note. Suppose experimentation reveals you do write better when tired. There is a long list of physiological effects of sleep deprivation, including depression, obesity, and increased risk of diabetes. Writing while fatigued is one thing, but be sure to get enough sleep.

Maybe you’ll find a different way to take advantage of those creative sparks you get while exhausted. Rather than sitting hunched over a keyboard, all you need is a notepad to jot down the insights as they flash by. I’ve blogged before about the tendency for a writer’s mind to solve problems while engaged in other activities, particularly mundane tasks. The notepad technique works then, too.

Well, <yawn> it’s getting late. It’s first-draft-writing time for—

Poseidon’s Scribe

Oh, the Places You’ll Go!

My stories are set in lots of places. I finally mapped all of them to date.

Some anthologies and magazines ask writers to come up with a brief author biography. In my bios, I often state, “I take readers on voyages to far-off places.” I wondered if I could capture all these travels on a single map. Here it is:

On this map, green dots indicate published stories and red ones indicate unpublished stories for which I’ve written at least a first draft. There are some stories in which I don’t specify a geographical location, so I can’t show them on the map. In two of my stories, characters venture underground, and I just showed their departure and return points on the surface.

As far as coverage goes, things get cluttered in Europe and the United States. Obviously, I need to write some stories set in Russia, Australia, South America, and Antarctica.

Some writers feel they must travel to the settings of their stories and conduct research to give their tales a sense of credibility. That’s less common with science fiction writers, for obvious reasons.

I’ve traveled to almost none of my story setting locations, and I don’t think it detracts from reader enjoyment. Today’s readers care more about characters than setting, anyway. They crave stories that explore the mysteries, motives, fears, anxieties, and yearnings of the human mind. That’s much harder territory to depict on a map.

Even so, strange and interesting settings are fun to read about, and often the setting itself brings out all those character qualities. Many of us love ‘journey stories,’ and I’ve shown mine as lines on the map.

Well, enough of all that. Are your bags packed? Have you securely fastened your seat belt? Who knows to what extraordinary places you’ll go next with—

                                                            Poseidon’s Scribe

How Things Change

Change is all around us. It’s amazing to watch, and it tends to follow a single, characteristic pattern. Even though the pattern repeats, it often surprises us.

That pattern goes by various names, including the Change Curve, the ‘S’ Curve, the Sigmoid Curve, and the Logistic Curve. I’ll call it the ‘S’ Curve, mainly because my name is Steve Southard, and I’m fond of that letter.

Consider a thing, or entity. As we’ll see, it can be almost anything. It begins in a period of uncertainty, and may not show much potential at first. Then it establishes itself, finds a comfortable and promising track, and pursues that. It enjoys a period of sustained and impressive growth, making minor tweaks, but generally continuing on its established path. Finally, it reaches some limit, some constraint it had not previously encountered. That constraint proves its undoing, and it enters a period of maturity, decline, and termination.

During that maturity portion, other things/entities/systems compete for supremacy. This is a period of uncertainty and chaos. It’s unknown which competitor will survive, but eventually a single winner emerges and becomes the successor, which experiences its own period of sustained growth, and its own eventual maturity.

As you read my description of the curve in the previous two paragraphs, I’m guessing you thought of at least one example of this. The ‘S’ curve resonated with you in some way and you knew it was true.

A quick search on the Internet showed examples related to language, to socio-technological change, to human height, to animal populations, to career choices and motivation, to stock prices, to business, and to project management. There were also discussions of the curve as a general model of change here, here, and here.

The ‘S’ Curve is everywhere!

Sometimes we can perceive this curve in an erroneous way. If its time-span is long enough, say, a significant fraction of a human lifetime, people observing the entity during its growth phase often assume that phase will continue forever. Why not? It’s been that way a long time. Why shouldn’t it continue upward like an exponential curve? However, few things do.

Consider automobile engines. At the beginning of the 1900s, it wasn’t clear which type of engine (steam, electric battery, or gasoline) was superior. The internal combustion gasoline engine won and became the standard for many decades. An observer in the 1960s could well assume cars would have gasoline engines forever. Now pollution has become a problem and that engine has reached its efficiency limits, so other technologies are beginning to compete.

Consider manned space exploration, as I did in last week’s blog post. During the Mercury, Gemini, and Apollo programs, NASA made steady progress. Observers in the late 1960s could have concluded there would be many follow-on programs in the 1980s, 1990s, and later, taking astronauts to Mars, the asteroids, the outer planets, and eventually, the stars. Instead, manned space exploration encountered constraints such as cost and waning public enthusiasm, so it has remained stalled to this day.

The technologies in my fictional stories all follow that ‘S’ Curve model. Usually my tales take place during the periods of disruption and chaos.

In fact, the story-writing process itself follows the ‘S’ Curve, with little progress during the idea creation stage, then rapid progress as I churn out the first draft, then a slow period of final editing and subsequent drafts before I consider it finished and suitable for submission.

As you experience change in your life, don’t assume things will remain the same. Know that all things reach their limits and end. When things seem chaotic, seek out the winning successor. Despite all this change, you can always count on—

                                                            Poseidon’s Scribe

Stepping on the Moon…Again…Someday

As you may have heard, July 20, 2019 marked fifty years since a human first set foot on the Moon. What follows is one fiction writer’s perspective of that event.

Neil Armstrong on the moon

I was eleven years old then, and watched the landing on my family’s small black-and-white TV. I stayed awake to watch the “first step” too, though it occurred close to 10 pm central time. There was no way to watch that live event and not feel pride and awe. Even those who balked at the mission’s expense knew how historic it was.

Fiction writers had long been imagining the moment, and had prepared us for the wonder of it. From Lucian’s True History, to Rudolf Erich Raspe’s Baron Münchhausen’s Narrative of his Marvelous Travels and Campaigns in Russia, to Edgar Allan Poe’s “The Unparalleled Adventure of One Hans Pfaall,” writers had taken us to Earth’s silver satellite in our imagination.

Later science fiction writers gave the trip greater clarity and realism in such works as Jules Verne’s From the Earth to the Moon, H.G. Wells’ The First Men in the Moon, and Robert Heinlein’s The Man Who Sold the Moon.

As a writer of historical technological fiction, I’ve written of flights to the moon occurring before 1969 as well. In “A Tale More True,” a rival of Baron Münchhausen travels to the moon in 1769 using a gigantic clock spring. In “To Be First,” my characters from an alternate Ottoman Empire are returning from the moon in 1933 when the action starts. And in “The Unparalleled Attempt to Rescue One Hans Pfaall,” you can read about Dutch citizens traveling to the moon by balloon in the 1830s.

Although fiction writers helped us imagine the first trips to the moon, nobody prepared us for a five-decade lapse in missions. Nobody in 1969 thought we’d finish out the Apollo series of moon landings, and then stay away for over fifty years. If you could travel back in time from 2019 to 1969 and tell that to the world, not a soul would believe you.

The moon was ours! Surely by 1979 we’d have a moon base, then by 1989 a moon colony, and by 1999 the moon would be our springboard for trips to asteroids and other planets. The excited folks of 1969 would inform the time traveler that by 2019, naturally, average families would take trips to the moon for vacations.

How odd that we’ve stuck to our planet and near orbit for close to forty-seven years (since Apollo 17). Historians may well wonder what took humanity so long to go back, given the advances in technology that have occurred since the early 1970s. Here are some possible reasons for the long gap:

  • The Mercury/Gemini/Apollo series ingrained in the public mind that only governments can finance moon missions, and only at colossal expense.
  • The moon wasn’t that exciting, after all. Gray, dusty, airless, and lifeless, it was a place only an astronomer could love.
  • The war in Vietnam and the Watergate scandal shattered the public’s former confidence in government’s ability to accomplish great tasks.
  • We’d gone there to accomplish the late President Kennedy’s goal of landing a man on the moon before the end of the decade, and to win the supposed ‘space race’ with the Soviet Union. With no further goal, schedule, or apparent rival, we’d lost all impetus for further trips.

We’ll go back to the moon, of course, and with any luck, the next lunar landing will be witnessed by you and by—

Poseidon’s Scribe

Dial Down the Flame

Some days it seems as if the world is over-stocked with idiots: editors who reject your brilliant manuscripts or insist on unreasonable alterations; reviewers too nit-witted to appreciate your subtle prose; and there’s always the never-ending parade of dolts in the non-writing world. Luckily, you have the Internet, where you can loose your torrent of fury upon them all with wordy weapons of mass wrath.

I’m here to suggest you not do that.

Every now and then an author gets mad at someone and blasts them with blistering bombast, in full view of the entire Interweb. Sometimes the author demonstrates considerable literary prowess in these attacks, but at other times, the author reveals only the limited, curse-studded vocabulary of an incensed sailor. I won’t link to any specific examples. They’re out there.

Social media makes this easy. You’re angry, so you lash out. Before you know it, you’ve dashed off a response to the most recent slight, a retort designed to make the perpetrator understand just how low on the human scale he or she rates. That’ll teach ‘em. And it makes you feel really good.

For a moment. Then you discover the quasi-Newtonian First Law of Internet Commotion: For every action, there’s an opposite reaction, but it ain’t necessarily equal. Your two-party disagreement has become public, and the public is livid about it—mostly livid about you.

Suddenly you’re the evil-hearted antagonist in this drama. People unknown to you have gathered to defend the original idiot, and cast you in the role of the caped and mustached scoundrel roping young women to railroad tracks.

They’re denouncing you. They’re calling you names. Worse, they’re refusing to buy your books, and encouraging others to boycott your bibliography, to catapult your catalog.

Well, you’ll show them. You’ll mock the mob; you’ll criticize the crowd; you’ll harangue the horde; you’ll…

At this point, a question occurs to you. You start to wonder if there had been some moment in this escalating stimulus/response/counter-response avalanche when you held a modicum of control over the situation. Was there a point before the full-fledged flame war, before the ruination of your writing reputation, where you could have prevented this outcome?

As it turns out, yes there was. It occurred back when you first publicly spewed venom at your initial, well-deserving target. If only you’d checked your fire then. If only you’d written your raging rejoinder and not hit ‘Send.’ If only you’d listened to that angel on your shoulder who’d quoted the Thumper Rule: “If you can’t say something nice, don’t say nothin’ at all.”

Yeah, that would have been a grand time to wedge in some sane contemplation  between stimulus and instant response. You could have risen above the ruckus, been the better being, grasped the greater good, and suffered in silence knowing your suffering would cease.

Some of you are thinking, “Oh yeah? I’ve read some pretty scorching online rants written by famous authors, so it must be okay.”

The key word in your thought is ‘famous.’ Famous authors can get away with stuff like that. If they lose a few readers because of their boorish behavior, so what? They can count on countless fans to come to their defense and to buy up even more of their books.

But until you’re famous, you can’t afford to lose readers. You won’t find a flock of fans defending you. Instead, you’ll just be one more sad statistic in the growing archive of Authors Behaving Badly.

When that moment of decision arrives, remember to dial down the flame. Remember to listen to the angel on your shoulder. Remember Thumper. And remember the advice of—

Poseidon’s Scribe

Technology in Fiction

Most of my fiction involves characters struggling with new technology. These days, learning how to contend with technology is a relevant and fascinating problem for all of us, and I enjoy exploring it.

I wondered if I was roaming the full realm of that topic, so I decided to map it. There are several ways to do this, but I chose to create one axis showing technology development stages, and another describing the spectrum of character responses to technology. Then I figured I’d plot my published stories on that map, and color-code the roles my characters played.

If I’d done my job well, I thought, the map would show a good dispersal of scattered points. That is, I’d have written stories covering all the areas, leaving no bare spots.

Without further preamble, here’s the map:

To make it, I chose the stages of technological development posited by the technology forecaster Joseph P. Martino. These are:

1.   Scientific findings: The innovator has a basic scientific understanding of some phenomenon.

2.   Laboratory feasibility: The innovator identified a technical solution to a specific problem and created a laboratory model.

3.   Operating prototype: The innovator built a device intended for a particular operational environment.

4.   Operational use or commercial introduction: The innovation is technologically successful and economically feasible.

5.   Widespread adoption: The innovation proves superior to predecessor technologies and begins to replace them.

6.   Diffusion to other areas: Users adopt the innovation for purposes other than those originally intended.

7.   Social and economic impact: The innovation changed the behavior of society or has somehow involved a substantial portion of the economy.

I then came up with typical responses to technology along a positive-to-negative spectrum: Over-Enthusiastic, Confident, Content, Cautious, Complacent, Dismissive, Fearful, and Malicious.

I grouped my characters into four roles: Discoverer, Innovator, User, and Critic. Some of my stories involve people discovering lost technologies or tech developed by departed aliens, so I had to include that role. The other roles should be obvious.

The resulting map shows many of my published stories, indicated by two-letter abbreviations of their titles. Where a single story occupied two areas, I connected them with a line.

Details of the map aren’t important, but you can tell a couple of things at a glance. First, I’m nowhere close to covering the whole map. I’ve concentrated on the Operating Prototype and Widespread Adoption stages more than the others.

Second, innovators view technologies positively and critics negatively (duh), while users tend to view technology negatively in the early stages and more positively in the later ones.

As far as map coverage goes, I wonder if the Operating Prototype and Widespread Adoption stages provide more opportunity for dramatic stories than the other stages.

Has anybody studied technology in fiction using a similar method? I can imagine a map with hundreds of colored points on it, representing an analysis of hundreds of science fiction stories. It would be fun to see how my stories stack up against those of other authors.

In the meantime, I’ll continue to write. As more of my stories get published, perhaps you’ll see future versions of this map, updated by—

Poseidon’s Scribe

Your Writing Voice: A Different Take

Some time ago I wrote about finding your writing voice. Recently I read a post by Jessica Wildfire and it forced me to think deeper.  

In my original post, I said a writer’s voice included two aspects: the stuff she writes about, and the way she writes it. In other words, (1) the topics and (2) the style. My suggestions on choosing topics are still sound. But Ms. Wildfire introduced some new thoughts about style.

Her 11-item list of style principles is so good I won’t repeat it here and will merely urge you to read her post. (Here’s that link again.) I’m just going to emphasize the part I found most disruptive.

She suggests reading Steven Pinker’s The Sense of Style, and I intend to do that. But she goes on to advise writers to toss The Elements of Style in the garbage.

Really, Jessica? Throw away my copies of Strunk and White? I couldn’t bear it.  

I understand why she says that. The Elements of Style dates from a century ago, and contains numerous rules presented in a way that sounds rigid, overly prescriptive, and archaic. I’m guessing those are the parts she ‘hate-reads’ to her students as counter-examples.  

But the overall message of Strunk and White, the vital essence of the work, is timeless and I hope Ms. Wildfire would agree. Elements is a plea for the writer to keep the reader always in his thoughts. Yes, your job as a fiction writer is to entertain, but to do that, you must first be understood.

As you look over Ms. Wildfire’s 11 principles of style, you’ll see she doesn’t care much for the old rules—the ones about grammar and showing rather than telling. But what comes through in her principles is a message Strunk and White would agree with. Write for the reader. Never confuse or bore the reader.

She advises writers to tell their stories in a voice readers can connect with. To do that, listen to the way real people talk. Notice the flow of words, the rhythms of their speech. If faced with a choice between clarity and correct grammar, opt for clarity. Delete the boring parts and cut to the chase. 

Okay, Ms. Wildfire, I’ll follow most of your advice. But I’ll never throw away the Strunk & White I got back in 1976. I consult it occasionally and re-read it just a couple of months ago. Elements will remain on the bookshelves of—

Poseidon’s Scribe

Your Tool for Writing Best-Selling Novels

Want to write a best-seller? Together, you and I will figure out the secret.

As I’ve posted before, data scientists have developed software that can predict whether a novel will be a best-seller. These text-analyzing tools are about 84% accurate, but only work when they have text to analyze. That is, you have to write the book first, and then run it through the computer. Not super helpful.

Not available. Anywhere.

We can do better than that, at least as a mental exercise. W. Somerset Maugham is reputed to have said, “There are three rules for writing a novel. Unfortunately, no one knows what they are.” Let’s figure out the rules Maugham said no one knows, but not just for novels—for best-selling novels.

I don’t know about you, but I’m not a data scientist and don’t know a thing about creating text-analysis software. I don’t have the time or spare cash to buy all the best-sellers for the last few years and input all that text into a computer.

Still, we won’t let minor details stop us. In fact, since we’re creating imaginary software, we’re free from bothersome facts that constrain real data scientists. Our best-seller writing rules needn’t involve things that computers are good at counting. We can come up with any rules we want.

Let’s start with a name for our imaginary software tool. Perhaps Best$ell 1.0. Not very good, but we’ll use if for now and get our Marketing Department to work on a better name.

Let’s imagine a list of attributes that Best$ell 1.0 will use. We’ll use this list for starters:

  1. Luck
  2. Amount of promotion of novel
  3. Appeal of book cover
  4. Existing fame of author
  5. Appeal of main characters
  6. Difference from other novels
  7. Addresses a current or emerging topic
  8. Addresses a controversial or taboo topic
  9. Amount of sex or violence
  10. Quality of prose

You could come up with different attributes, but that list should be okay for Version 1.0. Let’s say Best$ell 1.0 can easily measure all of those attributes. Let’s also say a greater amount or degree of any of those attributes gives a manuscript a better chance of becoming a best-seller.

Looking back over our list, I see one problem. Some attributes are beyond the author’s control. The first one depends on chance. The publisher controls the second one, for the most part. Attributes 3 through 5 depend on reader reaction. Attributes 6 through 8 depend on society in general.

I put the list in rough order from least author control to most author control. The author has some influence on all the attributes except number 1, but has greatest control over the latter items in the list.

Moreover, not all the attributes would be equally important. Best$ell 1.0 would know the weights to assign to each attribute, of course, and it may well be the last items in the list outweigh the first ones. That would give the author greater influence.

Of course, that last attribute might be fully under the author’s control, but it’s not a very actionable attribute. How, exactly, do you write high-quality prose?

Well, it looks like Best$ell 1.0 has a few bugs and isn’t ready for release. But it’s a start. The next version will be much better, given the talent and expertise of our top-notch team: you and—

Poseidon’s Scribe

The History of Science Fiction…So Far

Many people have written histories of Science Fiction, including Anthony Gramuglia, Robert J. Sawyer, and (in infographic form), the artist Ward Shelley. What follows is my version.

I split SF history into five ages. For each age, I’ll give the years covered, some characteristic aspects, how the age reacted against the previous age, and a list of representative authors. The timeframe for each age is approximate; within each, some authors wrote works hearkening back to the age before, and some presaged the age that followed. My lists of authors are short and therefore incomplete. I’m only discussing text works here; the history of SF in movies tended to lag behind that of written works. Here we go:

Age of Wonder

This covered the time before the year 1800. There were few works, and they tended to involve pseudo-science and took place in exotic settings. They used magic or unexplained methods to convey characters to those settings, and often the character was a chance traveler and passive observer. Representative authors included Lucian of Samosata, Johannes Kepler, Cyrano de Bergerac, Margaret Cavendish, and Voltaire.

Age of Science

This age spanned from 1800 to 1920. With the advent of the Industrial Age and the Scientific Method, authors incorporated scientists actively discovering or inventing, and then exploring in their steam-driven machines. The settings were exotic, but more realistically described. This age rejected the magic and chance of the Age of Wonder, and highlighted the scientist deliberately creating his invention. Representative authors included Mary Shelley, Edgar Allan Poe, Jules Verne, H.G. Wells, and Edgar Rice Burroughs.

Age of Engineering

Covering the years 1920 to 1980, this age exploded the genre with a lot more authors and stories. It was the age of aliens, robots, space opera, pulp fiction, atomic power, and mad scientists. Aimed at a largely white male audience, the heroes were often white male engineers who reasoned out the problem using science, rescued the woman, and saved the universe. This age rejected the primitive naiveté of the Age of Science, updating it with the latest rocketry inventions and astronomical/nuclear discoveries. Authors included Robert A. Heinlein, Arthur C. Clarke, Isaac Asimov, Ray Bradbury, and Larry Niven.

Age of Punk

This age ran roughly from 1980 to 2010. It explored the consequences of computers and artificial intelligence, often with dystopian results. It gave us numerous alternate universes, epitomized by cyberpunk, steampunk, and many other punks. Female writers proliferated. Heroes were less often white males, and antagonists had backstories and motivations beyond pure evil. It reacted against the Age of Engineering by including racial and feminist themes, and warning against the hubris of over-engineering. Representative authors included Philip K. Dick, Ursula K. Le Guin, Connie Willis, William Gibson, and K. W. Jeter.

Age of Humanity

Spanning from about 2010 to the present, this age turns inward more than any previous age. It’s about humanity in all its variants, and less about exotic settings. More than just women and blacks, we see LGBTQ authors delving into the future and consequences of sexual options. This is science fiction about biology and climate change. It includes mundane science fiction taking place in our solar system, without extraterrestrials or faster-than-light travel. Reacting against the negativity of the Age of Punk, it’s more a positive celebration of what it is to be human. Representative authors include Neal Stephenson, Melissa Scott, Robert J. Sawyer, Ted Chiang, and Charlie Jane Anders.

Age of…?

What’s next? I don’t know. Perhaps the next age of Science Fiction will be created by someone reading the blog posts of—

Poseidon’s Scribe