Category Archives: Science Fiction

A Few Leagues Short of 20,000

My favorite novel is Jules Verne’s 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. Still, the book is not free of literary flaws. Let’s examine them.

Before diving into those, allow me to remind you I’ll be co-editing an anthology paying tribute to Verne’s novel. Along with award-winning author and editor Kelly A. Harmon, I’ll be launching Twenty Thousand Leagues Remembered on June 20, 2020, the sesquicentennial of the classic submarine tale. Click here for details on when and how you can contribute a short story to this anthology.

Regarding the weaknesses of 20,000 Leagues, I know it’s unfair to judge a Nineteenth Century French novel by the standards of Twenty First Century America. Still, it is a classic, and therefore it must explore universal and enduring facets of the human condition. It does so, as I discussed here, but some aspects of the work have not stood up well by modern standards.

Submarine

Verne devotes two whole chapters to a tour of the Nautilus and a discussion of its features and capabilities. No modern writer would risk boring readers that way. In truth, some of us like these chapters, and I credit them with inspiring me to major in Naval Architecture at college, but for most readers these tedious details are unnecessary.

Women

No significant female characters appear in the work, a glaring defect by modern standards. The only mentions of women are a brief reference to Ned Land’s former fiancée, Kate Tender (Really? Kate Tender?) and a moment when Pierre Aronnax spies Captain Nemo kneeling and crying before a portrait of a woman—presumably Nemo’s former wife—and two children. Few of Verne’s novels feature female characters, and he might have found it difficult to write one into this story, had he been so inclined. Film versions of the novel often include women, though.

Protagonist

Any well-written novel has a clear protagonist. Who is the protagonist in 20,000 Leagues? Before you answer, recall a protagonist is at the center of a story, propels the plot forward, makes key decisions, faces the obstacles, and endures the consequences.

You could make a case that Captain Nemo is the protagonist, making all the novel’s key decisions and driving the plot along. The consequence of his mounting hatred against oppressive nations is that he goes mad at the end.

However, most reviewers consider Pierre Aronnax the protagonist. He’s the narrator through whose eyes we see all the action. He faces a significant conflict—whether to stay aboard with Nemo the Ultimate Marine Biologist, or escape from Nemo the Insane Pirate. Still, Aronnax is a weak protagonist, more of an observer of events, a scientist studying Nemo’s decisions.

Motivation

In modern literature, no antagonist can be purely evil without a reason. In our post-Freud world, we must know the backstory behind the ‘bad guy.’ As an antagonist (if he is one), Captain Nemo seems driven by forces kept obscure and never revealed. We’re left to wonder why someone would gather a crew, construct a submarine, shun all inhabited land, and sail around the world attacking ships from certain nations. In this novel, readers see a few vague hints about Nemo’s motives and background. Only in Verne’s later novel, The Mysterious Island, do we come to understand what made Nemo tick.

Fish

Among the major turn-offs for modern readers are the long, tiresome descriptions of fish. To give his work credibility, Verne wrote on and on about the fish seen by his characters. Long paragraphs with lists and details litter the work. While acceptable, and even standard for novels of his time, these extensive descriptive paragraphs would be recommended for deletion by any editor today. As if knowing he might bore some readers, Verne structured these descriptions such that a reader could skip to the next paragraph without missing anything.

Please forgive me for taking these unfair swipes against a literary classic. If I point out the tiny blemishes making this novel less than perfect for modern readers, I do so out of love, and with full recognition of the glorious masterpiece it is. Writing a novel half as good as 20,000 Leagues remains a dream cherished by—

Poseidon’s Scribe

November 24, 2019Permalink

What Makes 20,000 Leagues a Classic?

Literary scholars consider Jules Verne’s novel 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea to be a classic. Why? Let’s dive deep into that subject.

First, as a reminder, I have teamed up with the talented writer and editor Kelly A. Harmon of Pole to Pole Publishing with the intent of producing Twenty Thousand Leagues Remembered, an anthology of stories paying tribute to Verne’s submarine novel. Our antho will open for submissions soon, as detailed here, and will launch on June 20, 2020, the sesquicentennial of 20,000 Leagues.

What makes a classic book, and why include 20,000 Leagues in that category? I like the definition put forward by Esther Lombardi in this post. She says a classic: (1) expresses artistic quality, (2) stands the test of time, (3) has universal appeal, (4) makes connections, and (5) is relevant to multiple generations.

Let’s find out if Verne’s work meets these standards.

Artistic Quality

This attribute concerns whether the book was well written by the standards of its time and whether it expresses life, truth, and beauty with artistic excellence. Although much of Verne’s prose seems stilted today, and the book’s over-long descriptions of the submarine and various fish tend to bore today’s readers, the artistic merit of the work certainly met the literary standards of its era. No mere adventure novel, it explored deep themes through its complex anti-hero, Captain Nemo. As the first fictional book to feature a submarine, written in a style imbued with scientific credibility, it stood out from all previous works.

Test of Time

A century and a half after its first publication, 20,000 Leagues is still widely read, with new editions appearing frequently. The novel inspired several films, comic books, video games, and a theme park ride. In 2018, Chicago’s Lookingglass Theatre Company produced a play based on the novel. There’s a Wikipedia entry devoted entirely to adaptations of the work.

Universal Appeal

Everyone can relate to some aspect of the novel. We all admire the unshakable loyalty of Conseil for his master, understand the impulsive and restless Ned Land, sympathize with the dilemma forced on the scientist Pierre Aronnax, and marvel at the unfathomable engineer/pirate Captain Nemo. What reader could remain unmoved while riding along in a fantastic submarine, the Nautilus—part warship, part exploration vessel, and part private yacht—as it cruises from one undersea adventure to the next?

Connections

Verne’s novel contains plenty of allusions to prior works. Captain Nemo’s name (Latin for ‘nobody’) recalled the pseudonym Odysseus used as a ruse with the Cyclops in Homer’s Odyssey. In naming his submarine Nautilus, Verne paid tribute to the American inventor Robert Fulton, who gave that name to his submarine in 1800. The encounter with the giant squid was reminiscent of an octopus scene in Victor Hugo’s Toilers of the Sea. The maelstrom at the end of Verne’s novel honored A Descent into the Maelstrom by Edgar Allan Poe, a writer Verne admired. As already mentioned, this web of connections continued into a vast number of later works, all inspired by 20,000 Leagues.

Relevance

To be relevant, the work must resonate with multiple age groups throughout time. Young people can certainly connect with the adventurous aspects of 20,000 Leagues—the visit to Atlantis, the escape from the ice, the attack on the warship, and the battle with the squid. More mature readers can appreciate Aronnax’s internal struggle between staying aboard for scientific discovery and leaving to escape a madman, as well as the twisted genius of Nemo as he descends into insanity. Even in our age, when nuclear submarines prowl the seas, nothing compares to the Nautilus’ museum, library, and pipe organ. No modern submarine can travel both as deep and as fast as Nemo’s, and the oceans remain almost as mysterious to us as in Verne’s day. Thus, the Nautilus retains its singular fascination for us.

By this standard, 20,000 Leagues has earned its designation as a classic work of fiction. You can check with any literary scholar; you don’t have to take the word of—

Poseidon’s Scribe

November 7, 2019Permalink

Was 20,000 Leagues Inspired by a Woman?

Did one of Jules Verne’s female fans inspire history’s most famous undersea adventure novel, a work that includes not a single female character?

First, readers of my posts will note I’ve been writing a lot about 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea lately. That’s because I’ve teamed up with editor par excellence Kelly A. Harmon of Pole to Pole Publishing to develop 20,000 Leagues Remembered, an anthology filled with short stories paying tribute to Verne’s submarine masterpiece. It’s scheduled to launch on June 20, 2020, the sesquicentennial of the famous novel. Write your own story now, and submit to this site.

Let’s set the scene. It’s 1865, early in Jules Verne’s career. He has contracted with the famous editor Pierre-Jules Hetzel, and two of his novels have already achieved fame in Paris and across France: Five Weeks in a Balloon (1863) and Journey to the Center of the Earth (1864). Another novel, From the Earth to the Moon, will soon be released.

Sometime during that year, Verne receives a letter from a woman. After she praises both Five Weeks and Journey, she writes “Soon I hope you’ll take us into the ocean depths, your characters traveling in diving equipment perfected by your science and your imagination.”

Within a few years after that, Verne sails on the ship Great Eastern to visit America, and acquires his own sailboat, the Saint-Michel. Writing aboard his boat, he boasts to his publisher that he’s writing a new novel with an oceanic setting unlike anything written before. It will be “superb, yes superb!” By March 1869, the first chapters of 20,000 Leagues begin appearing in Hetzel’s magazine.

What can we conclude? Did Verne get the idea for 20,000 Leagues from a fan letter? Had she not written to him, would Verne have begun such a novel?

First, who was this mysterious woman? She was none other than George Sand, the pen name of Amantine Lucile Aurore Dupin. By 1865, Sand had achieved fame in her own right, having written numerous popular novels and plays. Her publisher was the same Pierre-Jules Hetzel who published Verne’s works. When she wrote to Verne, she would have been about 61, and he about 37.

No doubt Sand had noted Verne’s talent and observed the success of what would come to be known as Verne’s Voyages Extraordinaires. She had a keen sense of what would catch on with the French reading audience of the time.

So, was Sand’s letter truly the spark that led to Captain Nemo and the Nautilus? We may never know for sure. I’ve seen no evidence that Verne wrote back to Sand or admitted to anyone that the idea had originated with her.

We know, too, that Verne visited the Exposition Universelle (World’s Fair) in Paris in 1867 and saw a model of a primitive (and unsuccessful) submarine, Plongeur. He also saw demonstrations of electrical apparatus there. Could these exhibits have inspired 20,000 Leagues instead?

It’s impossible to say with any certainty whether George Sand provided the true impetus for Verne’s novel. It’s fun—and a bit ironic—to think she did, for there are only a few minor mentions of women in the novel.

Still, in case George Sand did inspire Verne to write 20,000 Leagues, she deserves this sincere thank-you, sent back through time, from—

Poseidon’s Scribe

October 27, 2019Permalink

20,000 Mistranslations Under the Sea

If you’re a really good author, your book’s reputation can survive even a botched translation. As evidence, I offer the first English language translation of Jules Verne’s 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea.

Before we get to that, I’ll remind you of an upcoming anthology I’m co-editing, along with the talented and creative Kelly A. Harmon. We both encourage you to contribute a short story to 20,000 Leagues Remembered, our sesquicentennial tribute to Verne’s novel. You can find more information about that here.

The success of Verne’s undersea masterpiece in France prompted its translation into several other languages. As bad luck would have it, the first translation into English got rendered in 1872 by Lewis Page Mercier, a Protestant Reverend in London.

Among his many translation errors are the following:

  • Sea or Seas? Mercier should have translated the novel’s title as “…Under the Seas” (plural). Note how that one little ‘s’ could have spared countless mix-ups between vertical depth and horizontal distance. You can’t go 20,000 leagues (43,000 miles) deep into one sea, but a plural ‘seas’ clarifies the meaning.
  • Disagreeable Territory. Verne knew his geography and wrote about his character Pierre Arronax returning from the Badlands of Nebraska. In one of his worst howlers, Mercier rendered the Badlands as “the disagreeable territory of Nebraska.” In other words, the phrase survived the English-to-French translation, but couldn’t quite make it back the other way.
  • Lightweight Steel. Mercier translated some dialogue of Captain Nemo as “These two hulls are composed of steel plates, whose density is from .7 to .8 that of water.” If Nemo had discovered a type of steel that could float like wood, it would be worth more than that casual mention. Of course, Verne wrote “whose density is 7.8 times that of water.”
  • Cork Jackets. When the (Mercier-translated) Nemo asked Arronax if he’d like to don his cork jacket, he didn’t mean a garment woven in Cork, Ireland nor a coat made from tree bark. Verne’s words should have come out as ‘diving suit.’
  • From Where to Where? Mercier translated the title of Part II, Chapter XX as “From Latitude 47° 24′ to Longitude 17° 28′.” Wait…from a latitude to a longitude? For all its numerical precision, that title tells you nothing about the path of the Nautilus. A competent translator would have rendered it as “In Latitude…and Longitude…”

These are only a few of the atrocities Mercier committed against Verne’s text. For example, he left 20-25% of the novel untranslated. Perhaps these were the parts he considered the dullest.

Perpetuating Mercier’s many errors, subsequent English editions of the novel used his translation. Up until the 1970s, his was the most widely available. When I first read 20,000 Leagues, I read a Mercier.  

As pathetic a hatchet-job as Mercier’s translation was, the innate greatness of Verne still shone through. When a bad version is all you have, you pause only a second to wonder at the odd phrasings and logic flaws, then read on. I wish I knew French and could read the novel in its original tongue.

Fortunately, today’s English readers have several good translations from which to choose, including the following:

Translator: Anthony Bonner; Publisher: Bantam Press (1985)

Translator: Imanuel J. Mickel; Publisher: Indiana University Press (1992)

Translators: Walter James Miller and Frederick Paul Walter; Publisher: Naval Institute Press (1993)

Translator: Ron Miller; Publisher: Penguin Books (1998)

Translator: Frederick Paul Walter; Publisher: SeaWolf Press (2018)

Translator: William Butcher; Publisher: Oxford University Press (2019)

While writing your own story inspired by Verne’s classic and preparing it for submission to 20,000 Leagues Remembered, consider re-reading the original work. Avoid any version translated by Mercier, and read one of the newer ones recommended by—

Poseidon’s Scribe

October 13, 2019Permalink

Twenty Thousand Leagues of Film

What’s the best film adaptation of Jules Verne’s 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea? Let’s discuss them all.

By now you’ve heard I’m co-editing an upcoming anthology called 20,000 Leagues Remembered, a collection of short stories intended to honor the original novel on its sesquicentennial. I’m really looking forward to reading the submissions. (Click here for more information.)

In the meantime, I figured I’d offer a brief discussion of the film versions. In doing this, I’m only considering live-action (not animated) versions, and only those sharing the title of Verne’s novel. Therefore, I’m not including Captain Nemo and the Underwater City (1969), the TV miniseries Kapitan Nemo (1975),  The Amazing Captain Nemo (1978), or 30,000 Leagues Under the Sea (2007).

1907 – Star Film Company

First on our list is a silent black and white movie from 1907. It was really a loose parody of the novel, featuring a fisherman who dreamed of traveling by submarine and encountered a Fairy of the Ocean and her dancing coterie of naiads. He’s attacked by large fish, a crab, and an octopus. For the audiences of the early 1900s, it must have been very exciting. Directed by the amazing George Méliès, the film is just eighteen minutes long and you can watch it here.

1916 – Universal Film Manufacturing Company

Nine years later, The Universal Film Manufacturing Company (now Universal Pictures) put out another silent black and white version, but this was much closer to the novel. Directed by Stuart Paton, the movie starred Allen Holubar as Captain Nemo, Curtis Benton as Ned Land, Dan Hanlon as Professor Aronnax, and Edna Pendleton as Aronnax’s Daughter. This was the first motion picture filmed underwater, though they used a vertical tube with mirrors lowered from a boat rather than using underwater cameras. The film includes some very long sequences showing nothing but fish and coral. To make the movie, they built a full-size mock-up of the surfaced Nautilus, which could be driven and steered. The movie’s plotline deviated considerably from the novel and incorporated elements of Verne’s The Mysterious Island. At 105 minutes in length, you can watch it here without paying the 25¢ fare they charged in 1916.

1954 – Walt Disney Productions

This is the most famous version. Produced by Walt Disney Productions and directed by Richard Fleischer, the film starred Kirk Douglas as Ned Land, James Mason as Captain Nemo, Paul Lukas as Professor Arronax, and Peter Lorre as Conseil. Of all the film versions, this one adhered most closely to the novel, but the character Ned Land was more prominent than in the book. Still, it was James Mason’s performance as an internally tortured Nemo that truly shined. The fanciful, steampunk Nautilus used in the movie has become iconic, and the attack of the giant animatronic squid was the film’s highlight. The movie is 127 minutes in length, and you can watch the trailer here.

1997 – Hallmark Entertainment

A curious thing happened in 1997. Two made-for-TV versions came out within months of each other. The first to air was produced by Hallmark and aired on CBS on March 23rd. Directed by Michael Anderson, it starred Richard Crenna as Professor Aronnax, Ben Cross as Captain Nemo, Paul Gross as Ned Land, and Julie Cox as Sophie Aronnax, the Professor’s daughter. This movie, as well as the 1916 version, featured submarines whose exterior shape most closely matched the novel’s descriptions. Deviations from the novel included the substitution of Sophie for the Conseil character; the presence of women among Nemo’s crew; the addition of a love triangle between Nemo, Ned, and Sophie; and the substitution of a strange sea monster for the giant squid. The movie was 95 minutes long and you can watch the trailer here.

1997 – Village Roadshow Pictures

The second of the two 1997 versions was produced by Village Roadshow and aired on ABC on May 11th and 12th. Directed by Rod Hardy, this one starred Michael Caine as Captain Nemo, Patrick Dempsey as Pierre Arronax, Mia Sara as Mara (Nemo’s daughter), Bryan Brown as Ned Land, and Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje as Cabe Attucks (a crewman on the USS Abraham Lincoln). The Nautilus in this film was menacing, wide, and shaped like a spiky crab. The movie contained numerous deviations from the novel, including a mechanical hand for Captain Nemo, a motivation for Nemo that involved preventing earthquakes long-term by triggering some in the short-term, an Oedipus complex for a young Professor Arronax, and a menacing version of Ned Land. At 158 minutes, it was the longest film adaptation of the novel.

Which version is best? Each one had strengths and weaknesses. Each one deviated from the novel to cater to contemporary audiences and to distinguish it from earlier versions. But overall, the 1954 Disney version best satisfied—

Poseidon’s Scribe

September 29, 2019Permalink

Anthology Submission Call—Twenty Thousand Leagues Remembered

On June 20, 1870, Jules Verne’s Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea was published, giving the world a new type of vessel, and a new type of pirate.

The novel’s original cover

150 years later, on June 20, 2020, Pole to Pole Publishing will launch Twenty Thousand Leagues Remembered, a sesquicentennial tribute to Verne’s masterwork. The kind folks at Pole to Pole have asked me to co-edit this anthology along with Kelly A. Harmon, and I’m honored to do so. Here’s the submission call.

But we’ll need stories, people! What’s your take on this novel? What story can you write?

You’ve got a few months until we open the antho to receive submissions, but Pole to Pole accepts stories as they go, and they’ve always filled their previous anthologies before the closing deadline.

Watch this space for more news about this upcoming anthology. For now, all the details are here.

In the meantime, let your imagination voyage as freely as Captain Nemo did within the Nautilus. Write your story. Eagerly waiting to read your submissions, I’m the co-editor—

                                                            Poseidon’s Scribe

September 22, 2019Permalink

Author Interview – M. W. Kelly

You’ll enjoy reading my interview with an author whose debut novel just got published. A mutual friend and former submariner introduced me to my guest today, M. W. Kelly, a writer who also spent a lot of time beneath the waves.

M. W. Kelly became hooked on science after Neil Armstrong took an epic stroll one Sunday morning in July 1969. He later served as a submarine officer based in Scotland and New England. He is a graduate of the U.S. Naval Academy, Bryant University, and Swinburne University. After leaving the Navy, he spent two decades teaching college physics and astronomy. A member of Rocky Mountain Fiction Writers (RMFW) and the Hawai’i Writers Guild, Kelly loves reading and writing mind-bending literature. As a flight instructor, he has also published a column on flying among the Hawaiian Islands. He lives with his wife, Patty, in Colorado, and they spend their summers in Hawai’i.

Let’s dive into the interview…

Poseidon’s Scribe: How did you get started writing? What prompted you? 

M. W. Kelly: My father was a writer and instilled the importance of writing every day. I started with short stories just for fun. The short form is a great way to force yourself to craft a story that’s both concise and intriguing. I think the skills you practice writing short stories apply equally well to novels.

P.S.: Who are some of your influences? What are a few of your favorite books? 

M.W.K.: I grew up reading the classics by A.C. Clarke, Isaac Asimov, and Philip K. Dick. I really enjoyed hard science fiction best. The engineer in me craved cool technology, and the science geek in me demanded realism. After reading PKD’s books, I fell in love with speculative fiction having a strong character arc. This probably influenced my writing more than anything else. I just finished Ian McEwan’s latest book, Machines Like Me. It’s a wonderfully written example of character-driven science fiction. Fans of PKD’s Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? (aka. Blade Runner) will love it. It’s thought provoking and raises questions about the limits of machine logic and moral decision-making.

P.S.: Give us the elevator pitch about your new novel, Mauna Kea Rising (Lost in the Multiverse).  

M.W.K.: My readers tell me that Mauna Kea Rising is science fiction for people who hate science fiction. In the tradition of Ursula Le Guin and Margaret Atwood, character comes first, and science only adds spice to the hero’s journey. It’s set in a parallel world where the British Hawaiian Islands sit between rival superpowers, Japan and the UK. A single mother takes her son on a sailing voyage to Hawai’i, hoping to recapture the bond they once shared. Isolated at sea, the boat’s crew is unaware of a catastrophic solar flare. Throughout the Pacific, power grids fail. Cities plunge into darkness.

P.S.: Where did you get the idea for this novel, and the eventual series?

M.W.K.: The story’s premise came to me from years of teaching college astronomy, covering strange apocalyptic possibilities such as supernovae, asteroid strikes, and solar flares. One of my students joked that a better name for my course would be “Death by Astronomy.” But seriously, as we come to depend more on technology in everyday life, many solar astronomers warn us that a powerful solar storm could wreak widespread damage to our modern power grids. It only takes a temporary blackout to remind us how much we depend upon a continuous and reliable source for electricity. Think back to the last time your power went out, then imagine living like that for a year or longer. The people of Puerto Rico have had to endure this hardship for over twenty months. How did they do it? They adapted to simpler lifestyles and relied on each other for community support, but it’s a difficult struggle and over three thousand people perished.

The story’s setting came from my annual trips to Hawai’i. I fell in love with the aloha spirit and grew a deep respect for their self-sustaining way of life. The state is a leading developer of wind, solar, and geothermal power technology. Three years ago, the governor signed a bill directing the state’s power utilities to generate all their electricity from renewable energy resources by 2045.

P.S.: How is the parallel universe of your novel different from our own?

M.W.K.: The parallel world found in the novel differs in social-economic ways. America with only 48 states is akin to Switzerland, preferring to stay out of foreign affairs. Russia and China have lost world prominence after the Second Sino-Japanese War. Hitler never rose to power, and the Second World War never came about. Japan and the United Kingdom are superpowers where Britain rules the seas, and Japan explores the solar system.  Hawaii-50 is now the British Hawaiian Islands, a member of the (UK) Commonwealth of Nations.

P.S.: Was there a point of divergence from our universe, and if so, what was it?

M.W.K.: The setting for my series grew out of the Many-Worlds Interpretation of quantum mechanics.  The American physicist Hugh Everett first proposed every possibility embodied in Schrödinger’s probability waves is realized in one of a vast landscape of an infinite number of universes. The quantum multiverse creates a new universe when a diversion in events occurs, known as a “branch-point.” Whenever we decide upon some action, we create a branch-point in our timeline. Say you flip a coin. While it’s in the air, it has two possible future states: heads and tails. When you observe the outcome, you might see heads, but tails also exists—unobserved in a parallel world. In this way, a different universe branches from the previous one, creating a new world timeline. One copy of us sees heads, and another copy sees tails. Without giving too much away, each of the main characters in each book creates a branch-point where Earth’s world-timeline diverges. The Earth on which we live continues on, but now we have parallel, slightly different copies of our world.

P.S.: The cover image for Mauna Kea Rising is striking, very eye catching. Can you tell us about the image and how it relates to the novel?

M.W.K.: Thank you. I think the book cover turned out well because of the help many people gave me. After searching for months, I found a graphic artist in Germany whose covers jelled with my vision. She created a cover design that touched on two of the book’s major aspects: the solar storm and a strong female protagonist. After a few designs, I tested sample covers with about a dozen readers. Some were the book’s beta readers, others were science fiction fans. For those who hadn’t read an earlier draft, I provided a blurb or synopsis, so they knew the book’s premise. After getting their impressions, I finalized the book design.

P.S.: Your story involves the immediate aftermath of a civilization-destroying event. In what ways does your book differ from other post-apocalyptic novels?

M.W.K.: Unlike many apocalyptic thrillers, the book is an adventure story where an eclectic band of friends (a Celtic engineer, Polynesian navigator, and Hawaiian Buddhist) rebuild their lives after an epic solar storm hits Earth. Fans of Emily St. John Mandel’s Station Eleven will appreciate this approach. Like I mentioned earlier, the story centers on a community working together to adjust to life without the power grid. Sorry, no zombies here.

P.S.: It seems you’ve incorporated several aspects of your life into the novel (being a former submariner, teaching physics and astronomy, being a flight instructor, traveling between Colorado and Hawai’i). How did you strike the balance between getting the details right and getting too technical?

M.W.K.: That was hard to do. I imagine your own experience as a submariner reflects this. Back on the boat, it seemed we laced our every utterance with buzz-words. And oh, those acronyms! I think the problem facing guys like us is we are too close to the technology. We may be unaware of what our readers don’t know. That’s where beta readers are invaluable. I carefully chose my reader pool, looking for people from different backgrounds, races, and genders.

P.S.: Yes, it’s a challenge for me, too. What are the easiest, and the most difficult, aspects of writing for you?

M.W.K.: The easiest part of writing a novel is researching and outlining. I guess it’s because these steps come naturally to me after having spent my life in academic research and problem solving. Outlining is also the most fun. Starting with a clean slate is exciting. Everything is possible. The most difficult part is editing, and that’s where I spend most of my time. I work with a dense checklist that would make Admiral Rickover smile. Hopefully, by the fourth draft I’m done and ready to send off to my copy-editor.

P.S.: What is your current work in progress? Would you mind telling us a little about it?

M.W.K.: The second book in the series is a blend of magical realism and hard science fiction. Elle: The Naked Singularity follows the adventures of a main character in Mauna Kea Rising in an adaptation of The Wizard of Oz. Twenty-year-old Elle Akamu slips from 21st century Earth through spacetime into a parallel universe where she suffers cultural shock in the 1970s British Hawaiian Islands. Lost in the multiverse, she finds life is about confronting her past, finding love, and accepting a new home. A stranger in a strange land, this next book wrestles with our oldest questions—what is the nature of the universe? Are there hidden dimensions around us? What does it mean to be human?

P.S.: Can you give us any hints about what readers can expect as your Multiverse series continues?

M.W.K.: Sure. In keeping with the non-linear concept of time, you can read the other books in any order. I know that sounds a little crazy, but you’ll just have to read them to see for yourself. You might also get new insights by rereading them last-to-first after they all come out. Elle explores aspects of the multiverse and why time travel doesn’t necessarily violate the Grandfather Paradox. The third book, Yesterday’s Destiny, speculates on the point of deviation from our own universe that created the world in the Lost in the Multiverse series.

Poseidon’s Scribe: What advice can you offer aspiring writers?

M.W. Kelly: Write and keep writing every day. Don’t read every how-to book on writing—it’ll make your head spin with all the contradictory advice out there. Join a writing group or critique circle. Your writing will improve just by reviewing material other than your own. And that brings me to another activity—reading. Read good material outside of your own genre. You’ll develop a unique voice and story ideas will spring organically if you explore literary styles beyond your own category. A great place to start is Reading Like a Writer by Francine Prose.

Thank you, Mark.

Interested readers can find out more about M.W. Kelly at his website, his Facebook author page, on Twitter, Amazon, and Goodreads.

Poseidon’s Scribe

September 14, 2019Permalink

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

August 4, 2019Permalink

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

July 21, 2019Permalink

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

July 7, 2019Permalink