If you’re not planning to be in Cedar Rapids, Iowa from October 13-15, consider it. I’m scheduled to appear at ICON, the science fiction convention there. Cedar Rapids means a lot to me—I grew up in that city.
Here’s my schedule for that weekend:
Friday
9 pm Dyson-Sphere – Megastructures in Space (with Bill Pitcher and Tony Penticoff)
Saturday
9 am Embracing Technology Isn’t Only For The Young (with Michael Frasca)
12 pm Writing a Compelling Fight Scene (with Alexis D. Craig)
1 pm How Do I Get my Work Out There? (with Rachel Aukes)
I’ve never been to ICON, and I’m looking forward to it. They’re holding the con at the Cedar Rapids Marriott at 1200 Collins Road NE. Online registration for the con is closed, but you can register at the door.
All I can say is—hey, Cedar Rapids, I’m back! We’ll see if the old town can stand a whole weekend of—
When you see books for sale online or in stores, do you ever fantasize about seeing your name on the cover as the author? Decades ago, before I began writing fiction, I pictured that and wondered, “how hard can it be?”
Beginner Me, Current Me
At that time, I had a great story idea and estimated I’d achieve bestseller status in a year or two. Many facts about writing remained unknown to me then, things I wish someone had told me. Today, I’ll tell you.
Make Characters Appealing. To Beginner Me, stories consisted of plot. The author just dropped characters in to have things happen to them. Not true. Readers yearn for engaging characters. Give them a protagonist they can love, or hate—just feel strongly about. Many authors come up with characters first, then figure out what happens. An exciting plot might provide a literary sugar rush, but all truly great books showcase memorable characters.
Start Short. These days, novels predominate over short stories. Readers tend to take novelists more seriously. For that reason, beginning writers often tackle a novel first. Beginner Me did that. His unpublished novel sits on my shelf. It served the purpose of getting Beginner Me accustomed to daily writing, and of learning things about the craft. I wish someone had suggested I start with short stories. Some time after I switched to them, I started getting published. You can crank short stories out faster. The submit-reject-submit cycle runs more rapidly. You can establish a readership and move on to novels later.
Accept Long Odds. A few—a very few—inexperienced writers get their first novel or short story accepted early on. Most—a vast majority—pile up many rejections before their first acceptance. You might be one of the few, but odds are, you won’t be.
Understand the Tiers. Those books you see on bestseller lists, on lists of what to read next season, on the top of Amazon’s ‘Featured’ lists, and on the prominent bookstore shelves, have one thing in common. They’re published by one of the ‘Big Five’ publishers based in New York. If your novel gets accepted by one of them, an army of workers will design your book’s cover, arrange for book reviews, publicize your book, put out press releases, and line up interviews for you. If your story or novel gets accepted anywhere else, that army dwindles to one person…you.
Market and Network. Beginner Me thought writers typed up prose while others took care of marketing details. For those few who land contracts with the Big Five, that’s true. The rest of us do our own marketing. You may not see yourself as the glad-handing, back-slapping used car salesman type, but you’re going to have to abandon your introvert comfort zone and learn those skills. It helps to network with other writers to watch and learn from them.
Be Realistic. Beginner Me had heard of writers getting paid advances of thousands of dollars. I’d jot down some words, submit the manuscript, sign a contract, and soon I’d be sailing my yacht to my private island, where I’d have a mansion. Yes, a few authors receive large advance payments, but most writers work a day job. Their writing hobby pays for lunch, once a week.
Get Help. At least Beginner Me knew this one and didn’t have to be told. Others have trod the writing path before you and are willing to share their knowledge. You may read How-to-Write books, take college writing courses, and go to writing conferences. Beginner Me did all of those. You may also attend writing workshops. I got the most help from critique groups. Find whichever type of help works best for you.
I meant this list to inspire you, not discourage you. You may see some items as depressing, but that’s not my intent. If the writing dream burns within you, if your story demands to be written, nothing I say will dissuade you. You’ll take the journey. Best to take it in an informed way, and not learn everything along the way, as did—
Some writers struggle to come up with titles for their stories and books. Capturing all that text into a few pithy and alluring words seems to confound them.
Before I get to that, I recommend reading this post by book marketing expert Dave Chesson. It’s helpful if you experience difficulty with titles.
In his post, Chesson mentioned a new resource to help if you’re stuck thinking of a title—ChatGPT. It’s the conversant AI that’s available to everyone for free, here.
Credit to mozarttt and Pixabay
As you know, I’ve blogged before about writers using AI and my opinion remains unchanged, for now. ChatGPT is the equivalent of assigning the same homework assignment to a million junior high school students and getting the best answers back instantly. Yes, it’s instant, but it’s junior high school level. That last part may change in the coming months and years as AI improves.
You can seek help from ChatGPT to come up with a title. You can give it a long description of your story or book (or even input the entire text) and ask for any number of suggested titles. Note: there is some question about who owns content provided by that AI, so check the terms and conditions first.
To test how well ChatGPT can generate titles, I decided to have it come up with alternative titles to a work in the public domain with which the AI is familiar. I chose the Jules Verne novel Le tour du monde en quatre-vingts jours. The literal translation from the French would be ‘A Tour of the World in Eighty Days,’ but in a bolt of titling genius, an early translator rendered it as Around the World in Eighty Days.
That’s become the most iconic of Verne’s titles in English, played with and altered to suit hundreds of other applications.
Something about that format and word choice struck gold—“Around the [world or other object] in [time period]” gives that sense of encompassing something on a strict schedule. It’s literary magic.
For computers, the rule is ‘garbage in, garbage out.’ What happens when you put literary magic in? I gave ChatGPT this task: “Come up with 10 alternate titles (in English) to Jules Verne’s “Around the World in Eighty Days.”
Here’s the output:
“Globetrotting in Eighty Days”
“Across the Planet in 80 Days”
“A Journey Around the Earth in 80 Days”
“Around the Globe in 80 Days”
“Eighty Days of World Exploration”
“Circumnavigating the Earth in 80 Days”
“Across Continents in Eighty Days”
“Around the World Adventure in 80 Days”
“Around Planet Earth in 80 Days”
“Expedition: 80 Days Around the World”
See what I mean? They all lack the zing, the flair, the magic of the actual title. In twenty minutes of solitary brainstorming, you could do better. That’s my point.
Before you AI enthusiasts sic a terminator on me, I admit I could have pressed ChatGPT harder. I could have gone on to ask it for more interesting and creative titles—titles that don’t just paraphrase the real one. Maybe the AI could have given me more to work with had I prodded it further.
At present, I think it best to partner with AI but not rely on it. Adopt the centaur model I mentioned in my February 26, 2023 blogpost. ChatGPT can recommend titles and they might be inferior or even so-so, but one or more of them might spark the killer title you’re after. You might not have thought of that title had you not consulted the AI.
My answer to the question posed in this post’s title is probably not, but there’s nothing wrong with using AI as a brainstorming tool. So far, all my titles have come from the unassisted mind of—
Have you ever enjoyed an author’s books, then found out something disturbing about that author? Did the revelation spoil your appreciation of the books?
I suspect we’ve all been let down by a hero. Perhaps a favorite actor, athlete, politician, or artist did something unsavory, and that detracted from your experience of their work. It stains their reputation, at least for you. You’re no longer able to separate performer from performance.
The works of Jules Verne, my favorite author, come across today as antisemitic, racist, and sexist. His anti-Jewish sentiment is evident in both Hector Servadac (also published as Off on a Comet) and The Carpathian Castle where he depicts Jewish characters in a bad light. He includes characters of color in many novels, but never as the hero and often in stereotyped ways—servants or cooks—subordinate to the white hero. At least he includes them, unlike those of the female gender, who rarely appear at all in his works.
I could excuse these ‘isms’ and rationalize my continued reading of his works, by observing that this 19th Century French author reflected the prevailing biases, prejudices, and privileges of his time. I could say it’s unfair to impose my modern standards on a man no longer around to defend himself.
But I believe that lets both of us—me and Verne—off the hook too easily.
Consider that reading represents a form of communication, and that it involves a sender (the writer) and a receiver (the reader—you). Your appreciation of the written work occurs at that interface where you interact with the text.
Therefore, you bear a share of responsibility here and you can’t shrug it off. Your love for or hatred of the book is an individual reaction you own, an experience you share only with the writer, whether that person is alive or dead.
All written material to which we have access was written by humans. All humans suffer from faults, frailties, and weaknesses of some kind. You lack the option of reading books written by angels. Sorry about that.
Knowing this, you face a choice. You might refuse to discover anything about the author. That spares you from any knowledge of skeletons lurking in their closets. But it sets you up for profound disappointment if you ever find out your favorite author slipped off the mental pedestal you erected and fell short of your moral standards in some way.
On the other hand, you can read with full understanding that you consume text produced by a flawed author—a human. You can research the author and discover some distasteful truths, and read the work anyway.
Here’s where I stand with Verne. I can’t claim ignorance of his backwards attitudes. If I choose to enjoy his novels, I must decide that the good outweighs the bad. Further, I must recognize this as an individual choice. Other readers make their own choices.
I like to read Verne’s novels, most of them. I don’t excuse his faults, don’t condone his biases. I wince at his stereotypes and cringe at the prejudiced opinions. I don’t idolize him. I’ve decided, for me, his strengths outweigh his weaknesses.
You face similar decisions whenever you read anything. Does the good exceed the bad? Do the delights of the book surpass the poor behavior or faulty value system of the writer?
When you read a work, only you can weigh good against bad. Nobody else can do it for you, not reviewers, critics, or even—
You’ve read my blogposts, but how well do you really know me? Though I’m not the boasting type and prefer to keep my personal life private, I’ll give you a brief summary.
According to my mom, I was born with the stub of a Number 2 pencil in my mouth, and enjoyed scribbling on the rails of my crib. She said I wrote before I could talk. At my request, my baffled parents got me a typewriter for my first birthday.
When schoolteachers asked for a sentence, I gave them 500-word stories, and wrote my first novel at age six. For my best chums, I wrote adventure tales starring them as the heroes. When bullies tormented me, they became (in my stories) ugly villains who met well-deserved deaths. Girls adored my love poems, framed them, and hung them on their bedroom walls.
In the mid-70s, I built a computer and created word-processing software. Sure wish I’d patented them. As a teen, I decided I needed to experience more of life so I could capture it better in my stories. Call it literary research.
So I left home and stowed away aboard a submarine.
Turns out, that’s a crime. I got caught and was sent to an underwater prison, from which I escaped.
No more stowing away. I built my own submarine from junkyard parts (it’s harder than it sounds) and sailed to Greece, then China, and from there to the Brazilian Amazon where I killed a deadly, shape-shifting vampirefish.
Back in 2012, I prevented the end-of-the-world cataclysms predicted by the Mayan calendar. You’re welcome.
I discovered the location of Atlantis, but see no need to reveal it, yet. I built a steam-powered elephant and rumbled through Africa, and constructed a clockwork lion which I rode in France. Fun times, mostly.
While sailing a trireme I made, I visited the sites of all seven wonders of the ancient world. The Great Pyramid was still there, but the others weren’t, so I rebuilt them.
Due to a tragic accident in Wyoming, I lost both legs and one arm. I made very real-looking prosthetic limbs powered by steam, but use my super-strength and hyper-speed only for good.
If you construct a metal coil spring large enough, you can launch yourself to the Moon. I did that once, barely made it back, and won’t go again.
You may not have heard about the comet that nearly caused an extinction level event a few years back. They kept it out of the news. I deflected the comet, with the help of a pack of chewing gum. You’re welcome, again.
After coming across the Ring of Gyges—the invisibility ring mentioned by Plato—I lost the darned thing. If you find it, please give it back. There’s a reward.
I’ve piloted a Martian war tripod through Germany, battled mutant cats in a space station, and flown on self-made wings from the roof of an English abbey. After encountering aliens in New Mexico, I conjured ancestral spirits in Arizona, using a flute. Don’t try any of those yourself.
I’ve raced around the world, been trapped in a haunted submarine, and faced a murderous robot.
After those adventures and a hundred more, I figured I’d gathered enough experience and done enough literary research.
It seemed a good time to settle down and write fiction. And that’s the life story of—
After Malcolm Gladwell’s book Outliers, the Story of Success showed 10,000 hours of practice equaled genius, I felt good. After all, I’d been writing almost that long, so genius and success should lie just over the next rise. A few more hours to go.
Then along came Dr. Scott Barry Kaufman, author of this article in Scientific American, saying the 10,000-hour rule doesn’t apply to creative fields like fiction writing.
Now you tell me, Doc.
His rationale makes sense, dang it. To become a genius at an activity requiring repetitive motions—oboe playing, bricklaying, pizza-making, etc.—the 10,000 hours seems logical. Some of that is creative play, but much is building muscle memory and learning more advanced techniques.
But purely creative endeavors—music composition, art, and writing—aren’t like that. Muscle memory won’t help. Spend 10,000 hours typing and retyping Sense and Sensibility, and you’ll end up a fast typist. But your skills as a novelist won’t have changed.
The article counts 10,000 hours of practice (also called the 10-Year Rule) as one factor in creativity, but gives that number a wide error band.
The author cites several other factors of importance to creativity. Unfortunately, a writer lacks control over some of these factors, such as talent, personality, genes, and socio-economic environment.
Lucky for us, the article provides some aspects of creativity lying within our control. For example, Dr. Kaufman states that creative people often use messy processes. If you’re the neat and organized type, you’ll have to work on correcting that.
The author says creative people take interest in a broad array of things. If you write fiction, consider writing stories outside your normal genre.
Too much specialized expertise, says Dr. Kaufman, detracts from creativity. Often, he says, people outside a field contribute the fresh insights and creative solutions. As writers, we can take care not to become overly specialized, and each of us can claim outsider status in something.
I give the doctor credit for identifying personal attributes that influence creativity, but I don’t believe you’re stuck with whatever creativity you were born with. (Nor did he imply that in his article.)
You can increase your creativity. I believe you, and all of us, were born overflowing with creativity. However, society’s pressures to conform squeezed much of that creativity out.
You can get it back through regular exercise. Here’s the exercise to try. Think of a problem. If it’s a fiction-writing problem, maybe you’re stuck for an idea, or fell into a plot hole, or need a character motivation, or seek a setting description. The problem could be anything.
Now start writing solutions as they occur to you. Include stupid ideas, impractical ideas, zany and magic ideas. It doesn’t matter—no one will see your list. Often very good ideas only emerge after thinking of dozens of bad ones first.
Yes, you may call it brainstorming. Unlike normal brainstorming, though, you’re doing this alone. Also, unlike normal brainstorming, you’re seeking more than just a good answer to your problem. You’re trying to stretch your creativity muscles. You’re retraining your mind to free it from a cage built long ago to hold it.
Maybe you’ll run dry after ten listed solutions, but I encourage you to push on. It might help to consider this–back when you were five years old, you could rattle off fifty ideas without slowing down. That’s the childlike creativity you’re looking to recapture.
If you aim to be a writer, forget about the 10,000 hours, the 10-Year Rule. That’s for others. You need creativity, and no clock or calendar can give you that. Let your inner kid loose again, this time to skip around in the infinite playground of your mind where milliseconds equal millennia and a pace is as good as a parsec.
My father died a few months ago. He lived a long and eventful life. A well-documented life.
During his retirement, he took time to write a series of vignettes about his past, his present, and general thoughts. By ‘a series,’ I mean he typed about 800 vignettes totaling more than 600,000 words.
Credit to phoenixsierra0 on pixabay.com
Why did he do this? Probably best that I let his words explain that. He used the metaphor of leaving footprints in the sand. But his rationale has nothing to do with the Christian allegorical poem “Footprints” of disputed origin. On June 12, 2014, my father wrote:
“Here’s my basic view of the whole business. As we walk (run, or slouch) through life we leave footprints in the sand. Most of us leave our footprints … just above the low tide watermark and when we die, the sea comes in and obliterates them. No footprints, no markers, nothing to mark our having passed that way. All is gone except for some fading memories … and maybe a piece of lore or legend that lasts for a generation or so. This has been the bane of existence of the human race for thousands of generations. It probably will continue in that lively vein for another thousand generations. One could hope so in any event.
“What if we could encourage everyone to share a few of their stories before they pass behind the black curtain? If a few would walk, and leave their footprints in the sand, but above the high tide level. They could write what a long life of seeing and experiencing change and how THEY managed. What joys and loves they experienced, also the hardships and sadness’s they overcame. What insights would they share? It seems selfish to die and take all the good stories with you.”
I might not have used the word ‘selfish,’ but it is a shame so many people die without leaving a lasting record of their thoughts, recollections, and beliefs.
How much do you really know of your parents’ lives? Those of your grandparents? Further back? When they’re gone, you’ll have innumerable questions to ask them, but you’ll get no answer. In a sad irony of human experience, you’ll only get curious about them after it’s too late. If only they’d taken some time, while living, to write about their lives.
Perhaps it’s too late for your ancestors, but it’s not too late for you. Options include ready-made books such as Reflections From A Mother’s Heart or A Father’s Legacy or . Other similar versions abound. Such books contain prepared questions, and you write your answers.
Or you can do it the way my dad did. Simply write. Choose your own format and your own way to organize your thoughts. Or don’t organize. Just write what occurs to you, especially regarding aspects of your life you think others might become curious about. You’re trying to convey a sense of what your life has been like. It could be in the form of a journal or diary, such as you may buy in many stores, or regular emails that you retain on thumb drive or CD.
Even humdrum aspects of your life today might fascinate readers several generations from now. Your ancestors considered home ice delivery, churning butter, or dashes to the outhouse just part of life’s background. Most of them wouldn’t have imagined the lives we lead or the interest we’d have in their daily, banal routine.
Maybe you believe you’re not a writer. Perhaps your grammar and spelling both stink and you feel embarrassed about that, afraid to expose these flaws. I suggest you get over that. Those who read your words crave content, not flair. (Note: you could record your words in audio or video form.)
My dad’s vignettes contain numerous spelling and grammatical mistakes. Though college-educated, he only did enough writing to get by. I doubt he even self-edited his vignettes—just tapped on his keyboard, printed them up, and mailed them. Do I think any less of him for his typos and mistakes? No.
Imagine a different world, one where all your ancestors wrote accounts of their lives, going back to the dawn of human language. What a treasure trove! How many mistakes might humanity have avoided, so as not to repeat historical tragedies? How much more advanced might our species be?
We don’t live in that world. We have history books, yes, but they speak to us in generalities, not specifics. You know humanity’s history better than your family’s history.
You can start to create such a world for your own descendants. If you’re childless, write about your life anyway. Give those writings to friends or family members.
Bequeath something tangible and informative to those behind you. Leave more permanent footprints in the sand. Walk the beach of life, above the high tide level, along with—
The authors quote Agatha Christie as saying she often thought of story ideas while bathing. I suspect many writers have experienced a similar phenomenon. You’re writing and get stuck. You take a break and turn to some dull activity, such as mowing the lawn, cleaning the house, showering, etc., and Bang! The solution comes to mind. Often you don’t even realize you were thinking about it.
The article discusses several studies that bear this out. Researchers found that taking a break from a creative task and performing a different, humdrum task allowed participants to return to the creative task and perform better. Oddly, those that rested instead of working on a humdrum task did not do as well.
Odd that the human mind works this way. I’ve blogged before about how weird that is. You could spend time puzzling about it or analyzing this brain quirk, but perhaps your time’s better spent accepting it and using it to your advantage. When the words won’t spill out, back away and pursue some mundane chore for a while.
However, I urge you not to draw the wrong conclusion from this discussion. You’re thinking, “Well, if procrastination works that well, I’ll spend years putting off writing and end up a best-selling author.”
Sorry. It doesn’t work that way. In fact, I wish the article hadn’t use the term ‘procrastinate’ at all. The word means to postpone, to delay, like when you have homework due and you watch YouTube videos instead.
We’re talking about something different here. When you get stuck while writing and choose to do gardening instead, you’re not really postponing anything. You’re still writing in the sense that your brain is thinking of creative solutions.
To paraphrase the math genius, Yogi Berra—writing is 90% mental; the other half is physical. Your body may have walked away from the keyboard, but your brain still writes.
Put another way, if you aim to be a prolific writer, you must write a lot. But not all writing time involves stringing words together. An observer might think you’re washing dishes, but you’re really stringing ideas together. Just tell that observer you’re not procrastinating, you’re writing in your mind, just like—
For today’s interview we travel across the pond and talk with a British writer who shares my interests in science fiction, artificial intelligence, and classic SF literature. Christopher M. Geeson’s story “Tyranny Under the Sea” appears in Extraordinary Visions: Stories Inspired by Jules Verne.
Christopher M. Geeson has had several SF stories published, including AI-themed stories in the Flame Tree Press Robots and Artificial Intelligence anthology and The British Fantasy Society Journal—Autumn 2011. His most recent is a story for the collection, Extraordinary Visions: Stories Inspired by Jules Verne. Christopher has also had tales published in Atomic Age Cthulhu, Steampunk Cthulhu, Spawn of War and Deathiness, The Great Escape and Anthology: A Circa Works Collection, all of which are available on Amazon. Christopher works as a tour guide in York, and as a workshop leader in schools, libraries and museums in North Yorkshire, delivering creative workshops for children.
Right then. Let’s get to the interview straightaway.
Poseidon’s Scribe: How did you get started writing fiction?
Christopher M. Geeson: As a child, I made up stories for my toys to act out and my favorite lessons at school were when we were asked to write fiction. There was one lesson when the teacher was punishing people who couldn’t be quiet by making them write a ghost story – some punishment! Naturally, I got into trouble that day. I started writing stories in my spare time as a teenager. When I went to college and university to make films, I realized I was more interested in writing the scripts than in the technical aspects of film production. This led to me writing stories in prose again as an adult and joining various courses – when my writing reached the level where I could get it published.
P.S.: Who are some of your influences? What are a few of your favorite books?
C.M.G.: I love the SF worlds created by Philip K Dick and—more recently—Chris Beckett. They both often take society’s ills to the next level, in a futuristic setting, seen through the eyes of a recognizable flawed human. I’m also a fan of a good fantasy adventure, whether it’s epic in scope like The Lord of the Rings (my favorite book), or on a smaller scale, such as Treasure Island, or The Dark is Rising.
P.S.: You’ve written stories involving AI for the Robots and Artificial Intelligence anthology and The British Fantasy Society Journal. Tell us the premise for these stories and whether you’re optimistic or pessimistic about AI.
C.M.G.: I wrote “Punchbag”—which was published in The British Fantasy Society Journal—after getting the inspiration on a car journey. I pulled into a supermarket car park and spent the next hour writing the first draft. It’s a very pessimistic story about how humans will use AI for violence and it’s told from the point of view of the AI, who is the victim. It is ultra-violent, but it reflects what I fear humans are basically like. It’s been out for over a decade but I still think of it as one of my favorite pieces of writing and it’s still very relevant. I’d love to see it reprinted and reaching a bigger audience.
The next AI story I wrote (“The Perfect Reflection,” for the Robots and Artificial Intelligence) anthology is also pessimistic, continuing the theme of violence, and also told from an AI point of view. This time, the AI is an observer of human violence. The big question in the story is whether the AI can intervene or not. I’ve been the victim of a couple of random acts of violence and that has clearly fed into my work. I guess I’m more pessimistic about the future of the human race than I am about AI, but I think it’s all wrapped up in one, as humans keep on inventing ways of being nasty to others.
At the opposite end of the spectrum, I’m dismayed that AI is now being used to make music, art and literature. Although I’ve written stories from the point of view of AI, I have no desire to read a story written by one. I’m sure AI could improve our lives in some way – organization, medicine, information, dangerous physical work – but not by replacing creative people. I think this started a while ago though, when CGI started replacing stuntmen, costumes, model work, and special effects in movies. I doubt anyone can even find Pandora’s Box anymore, never mind put the lid back on it.
P.S.: Is there a common attribute that ties your fiction together (genre, character types, settings, themes) or are you a more eclectic author?
C.M.G.: I love thinking of ideas or playing about with “What ifs?”, so my writing is almost always SF or fantasy, as those are the types of stories I love reading, and the things which inspire me. I want to escape and be taken to other worlds by stories and do the same in my writing. A lot of my published work looks at the violent tendencies of humanity and ends up pretty dark. But I have a couple of unpublished children’s fantasy novels that are about adventure, friendship and unification between races. They’re a lot more optimistic and I’d love them to see the light of day sometime!
C.M.G.: I loved that sense of massive cosmic horror and how insignificant humanity was in Lovecraft’s stories. For the steampunk collection, I dived into the American Civil War era – a part of history that’s always fascinated me – and gave it a Mythos twist which shows how futile war is. For the Atomic-Age Cthulhu anthology, I wanted to tap into the paranoia of the McCarthy era, so I stuck a bunch of characters in a nuclear bunker with all their hidden secrets and violent instincts, and let events play out from there, against a Mythos background.
P.S.: If you could visit the fictional world of another author, where would you go and why?
C.M.G.: Over the years I’ve spent a lot of time imagining this sort of thing – and given it a lot more thought than it really justifies! When I was younger, these imaginary journeys were all about adventure and battles, but I’m really the sort of person who would just want a nice quiet visit somewhere, enjoying the sense of wonder. If I went to Middle Earth, I’d want to live in Rivendell or The Shire and spend my time telling stories and creating art and music, far removed from the dangerous world outside.
P.S.: The premise of the anthology Spawn of War and Deathiness sounds intriguing. Tell us about the poem you contributed to that book.
C.M.G.: The premise of my poem, “Motorway Maintenance,” is in its recurring line: “Death drives a black hearse on the motorway” and is about the grim reaper mopping up after road accidents, and meting out justice to those who cause them. I don’t do poetry very often, but I did enjoy playing about with the rules and forms of villanelles for that one.
P.S.: You run creative workshops for children in schools, libraries, and museums. What are these workshops like?
C.M.G.: My main job is as a tour guide in the beautiful historic city of York, and I meet lovely people everyday and tell them stories about York. I have a sideline in running creative activities for children and a big part of that is reusing junk for model-making and art. I love being creative and I want to share that and encourage young people to be creative too, in any way they can, at school or at home – or occasionally also in museums and other heritage sites, where I’ll probably be dressed as a Victorian or a Roman, something like that.
P.S.: Extraordinary Visions: Stories Inspired by Jules Verne contains your story, “Tyranny Under the Sea.” It’s an adventure tale involving Captain Nemo, an underwater city, and a daring escape. How did you come up with the idea for this story?
C.M.G.: 20,000 LeaguesUnder the Sea is probably my favorite Verne story, so I knew early on that my submission would be linked to that somehow. I’m also intrigued by the start of Mysterious Island and its Civil War-era setting, because I’ve always been interested in that part of history. (My first published writing was three articles for the American Civil War Society about movies featuring the conflict). From that starting point, it was relatively easy to find clues to Captain Nemo’s views on the war and which side he would aid if he got entangled in it. Things really took off when I got the idea to include 1860s submarines and an underwater city inspired by Fort Sumter, but the key to it all was when I got the idea to tell the story from a slave’s point of view – because that added the emotional heart of the story, as well as the reason for the events which unfold.
P.S.: What is your current work in progress? Would you mind telling us a little about it?
C.M.G.: I’m not a writer who can focus on just one idea at a time because I’m constantly getting ideas and inspiration for different stories and flitting between them. It can take me years from getting an idea, to writing it down, to doing rewrites, to submitting it somewhere and it seeing the light of day. I have a couple of children’s fantasy novels that I need to finish, as well as a couple of short stories that need redrafting. At the moment, I’m going back to one of those children’s fantasy novels and looking at fleshing it out a bit.
Poseidon’s Scribe: What advice can you offer aspiring writers?
Christopher M. Geeson: Well, I think of myself as an aspiring writer, too—I certainly have many aspirations for writing which I haven’t fulfilled yet! But my advice would be to write what you want, not what you think will bring you success or money. Spending time being creative is a reward in itself.
I’ve had a few short stories published and the thing for me which made the difference was going through lots of drafts and listening to constructive feedback. I think my most useful advice would be to find or form a small circle of writers who are at a similar stage and level to you, regardless of genre or style—most of my writing groups have only had one or two of us doing fantasy and SF, but the feedback was still tremendously helpful. Share each other’s work; give and take honest constructive feedback. Keep it professional, rather than close friends or family. Joining a writing course—or several courses—worked for me. I don’t have a writer’s group at the moment but I had small writing circles, like those I’ve mentioned, in the years when I progressed to being a published writer and I found the feedback and contact invaluable.
Poseidon’s Scribe: Thank you, Christopher. I love your suggestion for writers to join or form groups. That’s helped me, too.
Readers interested in Christopher M. Geeson’s work should explore his Amazon page.
Most authors I interview lead lives far different from mine. In today’s interview, it’s almost like I’m interviewing myself. Like me, Demetri Capetanopoulos received technical training and served as an officer aboard submarines before turning to writing. One of his stories appears in 20,000 Leagues Remembered and another is in Extraordinary Visions: Stories Inspired by Jules Verne.
Like many boys of a certain age, Demetri Capetanopoulos discovered Jules Verne and was captivated—not just by the tales of scientific adventure—but by the example of the power of imagination to shape what might be possible with the creative application of technology. Who can say with surety what influence it had, but he became qualified as a nuclear submarine engineer and deep submersible pilot.
With a career spent in technical realms, Demetri has found in his writing a delightful synthesis of his passion for science, history, and the creative arts, all while rediscovering a boyhood inspiration. Surely Verne would approve. He dedicates his literary labors of love to his son, Leo, and to all those for whom submarine dreams stir the child within.
Let’s dive into the interview:
Poseidon’s Scribe: How did you get started writing? What prompted you?
Demetri Capetanopoulos: I don’t recall a ‘start’ to my writing, it emerged from me at the earliest age. In elementary school it may have been an essay or report for extra credit. In middle school I sought to emulate the short stories that I was consuming—those by Arthur C. Clarke were favorites. By high school I wrote my chapter book—a WWII submarine story—inspired by the type of storytelling I found in Alistair Maclean’s novels, which I was passionate about at the time. As I became busy with a career that produced its own adventures, writing was a way to capture moments and preserve emotions for some later “great American novel.” I also discovered that the ability to write and speak in a way that could move people was intoxicating and the military offered many opportunities to speak in front of an audience. I’ve come to realize that one of the things I enjoy most in writing is tackling challenges—whether it’s the strict format of a screenplay, trying to emulate the style of a particular author, stirring an audience to emotion, or bringing a past reality authentically to life. It’s still the challenge that thrills today which is probably why I seldom write the same type of story or style twice and why constraints inspire me.
P.S.: You just met an interested reader in an elevator who asks, “What sort of stories do you write?” The doors will open soon, so what short answer do you give this reader?
D.C.: Hopefully sticky stories—meaning those that feature some element that sticks in your subconscious and influences your creative engine even when all other details about the story have slipped from memory.
P.S.: Your website, “Precise Imagination,” looks far different from most author’s sites. It seems intended to inspire people to design and build things. Tell us about the purpose and philosophy of the site.
D.C.: It’s not a site intended to explicitly promote my writing, rather it describes my philosophy that I try and bring to all my creative endeavors. I can’t claim to originate it, but it is my synthesis of the ancient Greek musings on excellence and achieving that elusive optimization of both beauty and function. Those elements are as relevant to writing as they are to any creative activity including the building of things.
P.S.: Who are some of your influences? What are a few of your favorite books?
D.C.: I was fortunate to have a solid grounding in the classics—Stevenson, Kipling, Poe, Wells, Twain, Verne, Bradbury and the like. But there came a fateful day when I read Endurance by Alfred Lansing which recounted the true, yet scarcely believable tale of Shackleton’s Antarctic expedition, when I realized within the nooks and crannies of history, non-fiction tales could satisfy every thrill, wonder, and amusement provided by fiction. I have seldom picked up a work of fiction since and so, have come to appreciate the nuanced difference between authors who can competently relate a compelling history and those gifted few who possess “a way with words” that elevates the narrative to something poetic. Fate is the Hunter by Ernest K. Gann is a top-notch example of this non-fiction art in my mind.
P.S.: Your background as a submariner explains much of your fiction. But what led to the non-submarine works Hadley the Lunar Rover, and On Ice?
D.C.: A lifelong passion for space exploration motivated the story about a plucky lunar rover waiting for humans to return to the moon. The sentiment seemed timely and I wanted to challenge my limited drawing skills with a very different artistic style than I used in Ned the Nuclear Submarine (which was deliberately simplistic to make what could be an intimidating subject, more accessible to kids). After my experience living and working at McMurdo Station in Antarctica it seemed obvious to me that fascinating, yet wacky, place was perfect for a screenplay, which I called “On Ice.” Having never written one before, I was drawn to the challenging constraints imposed by both the screenplay format and my own desire for compelling plot drivers grounded in realism (i.e., no aliens/UFO’s, Atlantis under the ice, sea monsters, etc.). I can attest that screenwriting will teach a writer discipline, but for me, when I write any story it is always running in my head as a movie, and I just write down what I am seeing in my mind.
P.S.: The world of submarines and engineering (your background) seems one of logical equations, arcane technical details, and high-tech machinery, while the world of a fiction writer involves deep emotions, the infinite complexities of the human heart, and the often-irrational behavior of flawed characters. How did you manage the transition from one world to another?
D.C.: A truly insightful question. The truth is I have never made a transition—I have lived a life and made a career in highly disciplined, technical realms but always stood somewhat apart from my colleagues as person who saw things slightly differently, processed experiences with perhaps deeper personal reflection, and always injected a bit of dramatic flair and staging to the way I went about my duties. The emotional intelligence, communication skills, and empathy that often exemplify writers turn out to be pretty good leadership traits that can garner success even in a highly technical and structured organization. I suppose in my case it made up for whatever deficiencies I had academically compared to my rather brilliant colleagues.
P.S.: When most people read Jules Verne’s Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Seas, they skip over the chapters devoted to the design of the Nautilus. Not you. You wrote a detailed, technical manual about how Captain Nemo built it. Tell us about The Design and Construction of the Nautilus and why you wrote it.
D.C.: It was only after I became a nuclear submarine engineer and had occasion to read a modern translation (Naval Institute Press) of the novel that restored much of the previously edited technical discussions did I appreciate that Verne’s conception of the Nautilus was much more specific and realistic than the innumerable later incarnations have suggested. I had gotten professionally interested in early submarine development and wanted to write a book discussing the evolution of the relevant technology and design principles without running afoul of concerns about classified information that my background might prompt. The answer was to use a fictional submarine—Captain Nemo’s Nautilus—to explore the technology of the period that inspired Verne and see how close reasonable extrapolations could have gotten to a workable design. No one with a similar technical background had attempted this before. The closest effort was a piece written by a French nuclear submarine engineer, Jean Gagneux, but he focused on a technical critique of where Verne’s design would fall short. Though the analysis was interesting and completely legitimate, I wanted to take the opposite approach. If at times the book seems overly technical or saturated with detail, my only defense is that nuclear submariners are every bit as critically minded an audience as Verne aficionados and I was keen to avoid being dismissed or laughed at by either.
P.S.: Ned the Nuclear Submarine appears to be unlike any other book on the market—a children’s book, told in rhyme, about a submarine. What inspired it?
D.C.: I think every new parent imagines they will write a children’s book, but it took me until my son was nearly eight years old to complete it! I was determined to do my own illustrations and (against all publishing advice) to do the story in rhyme—because kids like rhyme. They also like to learn how things work and don’t mind when some words or ideas that are over their heads now can be appreciated later, which is why the text is designed to stretch their literacy and the illustrations to expand their minds. But most of all, kids like a good story with compelling characters. In my observation, there are a great many exquisitely crafted children’s books today whose focus is about delivering moral messages that resonate with adults and are pretty thin on character and story. In this case I knew exactly what my target to emulate was: Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel—a classic from 1939 that is still in print today. It offers a very realistic mechanical character that evokes real emotion while facing and ultimately surmounting authentic problems and fears. Just like Ned. I made Ned a submarine because the first rule of writing (and drawing for that matter) is do what you know.
P.S.: For the anthology Extraordinary Visions: Stories Inspired by Jules Verne, you wrote “Rust and Smoke.” In it, you take readers to a setting of stark beauty in two different time periods. Tell us where the story takes place and why you chose that region.
D.C.: In Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, the fate of the Nautilus is left unknown, but Jules Verne offers three possible things that could have survived the story and persist in our world today: Captain Nemo’s coral cemetery in the eastern Indian Ocean, the subterranean refueling depot inside one of the Canary Islands, and the unusual iron dinghy that Professor Aronnax, Conceil, and Ned Land use to escape the Nautilus. So, I wrote a very different style of story for each of those loose ends. “Rust and Smoke” takes place in the Lofoten Islands that comprise the northwestern coast of Norway, but the reader is only gradually given the clues to figure this out, in part, to draw out the connection to the famous Maelstrom, which is located in these waters and the serves as the climax for Verne’s novel. I wanted to write a story in modern times that could provide a realistic connection to the events of Verne’s novel, hence the two story lines, set in differing time periods, that work their way toward their mutual resolution of one of the novel’s loose ends (while introducing a beguiling fourth loose end).
P.S.: Your story “Homework Help from No One” appears in 20,000 Leagues Remembered. Tell us about the protagonist, his problem, and the setting.
D.C.: This was the second of my three “loose end” stories (yes, there is an as-yet unpublished third) and the style and tone is intentionally quite different. For this piece, I wanted to write a story of the sort that might once have appeared in Boy’s Life magazine—specifically something in the same vein as the Mad Scientists’ Club stories, which were a favorite of mine growing up. So naturally the protagonist is boy of about the same age, and with the same sort of concerns and impulsiveness that I imaged the target reader might be. Innocently enough, he gets himself in real trouble while simultaneously making an amazing discovery related to the presumably fictional tale of the Nautilus. In keeping with the genre, it requires all his wits and dose of real science to work out the solution, along with a dash of bravado to pull off the surprise ending.
P.S.: Your newest release is a graphic novel called Rage Runs Deep. Tell us about the book and who you think its target audience is.
D.C.: Rage Runs Deeps expands on the snippet of Captain Nemo’s backstory that Verne provides in his subsequent novel, The Mysterious Island, and weaves that tragic narrative into real history much like the movie Forrest Gump. All the people, places, and events that intersect with Prince Dakkar are 100% real and accurate, eventually compelling his construction of the Nautilus and justifying in his own mind, the righteousness of his revenge as Captain Nemo. While it can be enjoyed by readers of all ages as a prequel to Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Seas, the story tackles sophisticated issues related to the blowback of imperialism and the extent to which acts of rebellion can be legally and morally justified—issues which continue to remain all-too-relevant today. The graphic novel was a natural format for a work that originated as a screenplay, but it also has the potential to expose a much broader audience to consider such substantive arguments.
P.S.: What is your current work in progress? Would you mind telling us a little about it?
D.C.: I just finished a novel in which the protagonist is a descendant of a famed fictional sea captain, who must manage the new technology of a steam frigate, a skeptical crew, and a bureaucracy harboring its own agenda, when he is sent in a desperate bid to chase down an unknown submarine boat that seems bent on destroying British shipping. It is decidedly NOT a sci-fi story, but rather a hard-core historical maritime adventure much more in the vein of C.S. Forrester or Patrick O’Brian. I expect the editorial process to be long because fans of such historical nautical fiction are demanding—not to mention rightfully protective of the legends of that genre—and I do not intend to let them down. I’m also in early draft on a non-fiction book that tells the story of volunteers in Ohio who began rebuilding a WWII B-17 “Flying Fortress” bomber from five partial wrecks and discovered that much of the aircraft would have to be made by them from scratch if it were going to be able to fly again. It struck me as inspirational, but also fascinating, technically, and I have become a volunteer on the project myself.
Poseidon’s Scribe: What advice do you have for aspiring fiction writers?
Demetri Capetanopoulos: Do exhaustive research to ensure you get the details right—that’s what puts you in the moment, just as inaccuracy can shatter a reader’s mental immersion. But when actually writing, focus on the emotion you are trying to evoke in the reader with any particular passage. “Be in the scene”—meaning in the mood of the setting and the emotive state of the characters, and the right words will flow.
Poseidon’s Scribe: Thank you, Demetri. It’s been an honor to interview a fellow submariner.
