Cover Image Revealed

My co-editor, Kelly A. Harmon, and I have chosen the cover image for our upcoming anthology, 20,000 Leagues Remembered. The book will pay tribute to Jules Verne’s classic novel 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea on the June 2020 sesquicentennial of its publication.

Here is that image, with the Nautilus being menaced by a tentacled monster.

Cover image for 20,000 Leagues Remembered

Pole to Pole Publishing is still open for short story submissions to the anthology. Click here for details, and to submit your best work. Although the closing date is April 30, please note we are accepting stories as we go, so the anthology may well fill up before that date. Submit early!

We’ve received some wonderful stories so far. Still, there’s no one more anxious to read your story than—

Poseidon’s Scribe

February 3, 2020Permalink

Telling Readers All About You

How much should your readers know about you? In this age of Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram, when everything private is public, is it necessary to reveal every detail?

Before social media and even before the internet, authors were mysterious. Each one seemed like a magical wizard living in some unknown and hidden cave. A publisher would release a book, but readers wouldn’t know anything about the wizard, and publishers wouldn’t tell what they knew.

In those days, you could read the ‘About the Author’ section on the book jacket or an occasional magazine interview, but that was all you knew. The wizards stayed in their caves, typing away.

Times have changed. If you like a particular author, you can find out home town, number of cats owned, shoe size, political leanings, and a description of that writer’s most recent meal. No more wizards; no more mysteries; it turns out authors are just everyday people with an odd tendency to sling words around.

As a writer, you may still choose to remain a digital hermit, invisible to Facebook, a wizard in your cave. But you’d be going against the trend, and against the current guidance.

The web is filled with advice blogs for new authors. You must have a social media presence. Your readers are curious about you, so you must connect with them. Be authentic; show your audience you’re a real person. A few hours spent on social media will help grow your book sales.

Not all authors follow this advice. One of them, Tom Corson-Knowles, recommends writers shun social media entirely. He argues you’ll achieve better sales by writing better books; staying off Twitter will give you more free time to write; and social media is cramping your creativity.  

Each writer must take the path that seems right, and be willing to change if that’s not working. As for me, I write these weekly blogposts, post on Twitter and Facebook once a week or so, and sometimes post book reviews on Goodreads. I rarely talk about personal stuff on those platforms.  

Although I’d be more comfortable as a mysterious, cave-dwelling wizard, I’m willing to admit things are changing. Almost everyone shares personal details these days, and if I knew I could increase sales by posting a few things, I’d do it.

For now, I’ll reveal one spicy secret. Though I like dogs and (sometimes) cats, there are currently no pets in the home of—

Poseidon’s Scribe

February 2, 2020Permalink

Character Analysis — Captain Nemo

Now we’ve come to the last major character in Jules Verne’s Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea. Let’s study Captain Nemo.

Before we do, I’ll remind you to submit a short story to 20,000 Leagues Remembered, a tribute anthology scheduled for publication on the 150th anniversary of Verne’s marvelous novel. Along with unparalleled word-master, Kelly A. Harmon, I’m co-editing this anthology for Pole to Pole Publishing. The official closing date is April 30, but you should submit early. We’re accepting stories as we go, and this publisher has filled each of its anthologies before the closing date. For more details, and to submit your story, click here.

Regarding Captain Nemo, I’ll restrict this analysis to what we know from the 20,000 Leagues novel and disregard information provided later in The Mysterious Island as well as later adaptations.

When readers first encounter Nemo, they learn he appears self-confident, energetic, and courageous. He is tall, of indeterminate age, and has wide-set eyes. He says, “To you, I’m simply Captain Nemo,” adding a rank to the name “no one” by which Odysseus (another sea captain) fooled the Cyclops.

In subsequent chapters, Pierre Aronnax learns Nemo is a highly intelligent scientist and engineer, has divorced entirely from the land and all nations, and is immensely wealthy. Later, Aronnax discovers Nemo cares deeply for a dying crewman and buries him on the seafloor. He assists a stricken pearl diver off the coast of India, saying he “lives in the land of the oppressed, and I am to this day, and will be until my last breath, a native of that same land!”

Nemo provides a huge sum of gold to a Grecian diver, apparently to aid in the uprising of Crete against Ottoman rule. Aronnax sees a set of paintings in Nemo’s cabin, all portraits of historical revolutionaries. Using the Nautilus’ ram, Nemo slaughters a pod of sperm whales to save some baleen whales. He then attacks and sinks a ship whose nationality is unknown to Aronnax. Following this act of destruction, Aronnax spies Nemo kneeling and weeping before a portrait of a woman and two children.

The Captain combines several opposing characteristics and sentiments:

  • He claims to support the downtrodden, yet he designed the Nautilus with a distinct two-class system, and treats Aronnax as an upper-class gentleman, in contrast to the way he treats Conseil, Land, and his own crew.
  • He financially supports freedom-seeking revolutionaries, and his Mobilis in Mobili motto implies a love of freedom, yet all who enter his Nautilus are confined aboard forever.
  • At the outset, Nemo declares, “I’m not what you term a civilized man! I’ve severed all ties with society, for reasons that I alone have the right to appreciate. Therefore I obey none of its regulations…” yet he plants a flag at the South Pole just as any imperialistic conqueror from a land nation might.

It’s well-known that Verne initially gave Nemo a detailed back-story with a former nationality and a traumatic past to explain his motivations, but his publisher urged him to delete all that. We’re left with an unexplained mystery, a Byronic Leonardo da Vinci, a marauding scientist, a sea hermit, a gentleman savage.

Like Captain Ahab, Nemo suffers from a troubled past that leads him on an obsessive oceanic quest, resulting in madness. Unlike Ahab, the cause is not as evident as a bitten-off leg, but resides only in his mind. His motives remain as invisibly submerged as his submarine.  

I hope you’ve enjoyed reading these recent blogposts about the four main figures in 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea. This one completes the quartet of character analyses by—

Poseidon’s Scribe

January 26, 2020Permalink

Character Analysis — Pierre Aronnax

Having analyzed Conseil and Ned Land in recent blogposts, I’ll turn my attention today to the narrator of Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, Pierre Aronnax.

First, don’t forget to submit your best short story to the upcoming anthology 20,000 Leagues Remembered, my tribute to Verne’s undersea masterpiece on its sesquicentennial. I’m co-editing this book, along with editor and award-winning author Kelly A. Harmon of Pole to Pole Publishing. We’ll officially close for submissions on April 30, but I encourage you to submit well before then. We accept stories as we go, and every previous anthology from this publisher has filled up before its closing date. See this site for guidelines and to submit your story.

Pierre Aronnax, forty years of age, was an Assistant Professor at the Paris Museum of Natural History. He’d written a definitive book on sea creatures, titled The Mysteries of the Great Ocean Depths. Aronnax had been visiting the Nebraska Badlands and was in New York when he received an invitation to join the crew of the frigate USS Abraham Lincoln on its mission to hunt down the reported ‘sea monster.’

Of the three men taken aboard the Nautilus, only Aronnax is given a tour and introduced to most of the wonders aboard. Captain Nemo treats him as an approximate equal, a gentleman, while he treats the rest of his crew, and both Conseil and Ned Land, as lower-class commoners. To our modern sensibilities, this sounds absurd, but to Verne’s class-conscious readers it must have seemed understandable, even natural.

Some have theorized Verne was playing with the word ‘arrogant’ in giving the Professor his surname, but I disagree. I don’t believe Verne thought of Aronnax as arrogant or intended him to appear that way to readers. The Professor was a Nineteenth Century gentleman-scholar and behaved that way. Though he may seem arrogant to us, it is unlikely Verne would have foreseen our modern sensibilities and named his character accordingly.

I’ve mentioned before that Conseil served as the imaginative voice of Verne. I think Aronnax and Nemo together represent what Verne aspired to be. Verne would have loved to be a scientific scholar like Aronnax and an engineer like Nemo.

That said, Aronnax is a disappointing character. He enjoys being free to examine undersea life from within a submarine, while ignoring that he’s trapped aboard. He admires the scientific and engineering genius of Nemo while choosing to ignore warning signs of the Captain’s insanity. Aronnax knows he must someday try to leave the submarine, but would prefer that date be well in the future. In short, he’s there to observe and to marvel for us, not to act in any daring way.

Modern writers can understand Verne’s dilemma. To pull off his undersea novel with all its various travels and adventures, Verne needed at least one character who was content to remain in an iron prison for the duration. Aronnax is that character, but he comes off as too trusting and too slow to act. He is carried along by events rather than causing things to happen. These aren’t traits we like to see in a main character.

In a way, we can think of Verne’s Aronnax as an unreliable narrator. The Professor gives us accurate information on the Nautilus, Nemo’s scientific and engineering prowess, and the many fish they see and places they visit. But he ignores and then rejects Ned Land’s opinion about Nemo and the Canadian’s plans for escape. Only in the end do we (and Aronnax) see that Ned was right all along.

I suppose you can guess the next 20,000 Leagues character to be analyzed by—

Poseidon’s Scribe

January 19, 2020Permalink

Character Analysis — Ned Land

Today we’ll consider the character Ned Land in Jules Verne’s Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea.

Before doing so, I’d like to remind you to submit a short story to Twenty Thousand Leagues Remembered, an anthology I’m co-editing along with the creative and capable Kelly A. Harmon of Pole to Pole Publishing. We’re open for submissions and accepting stories as we go, and this publisher’s previous anthologies have all filled up before their closing dates. Therefore, don’t wait until the official closing date of April 30. Submit your story here.

Turning now to Ned Land, Verne introduces him as a Canadian harpooner from Quebec assigned to the frigate USS Abraham Lincoln to assist the crew in hunting a menacing sea creature.

Verne has fun with this character’s name. In French editions, it is rendered as “Land,” the same as in English translations, not the French word for land, “terre.” Verne’s audience would have had to know the English word to get his pun. Ned is a man of the sea named for the land, who craves to escape from under the sea and eat food of the land.

Between Professor Aronnax and Ned Land, readers come to understand two opposing ways of dealing with their imprisonment aboard the Nautilus. The pair are opposites, with Aronnax’s servant Conseil serving as the median. On several spectra, the two men occupy extreme ends.

Ned Land is the ‘physical’ to Aronnax’s ‘intellectual.’ Land is often depicted as taking action, while Aronnax observes and deliberates. It is Ned who throws the harpoon, who assaults a steward, who goes ashore and shoots birds and kangaroos, who grabs the electrified railing, who kills a shark, who harpoons a dugong, and who joins in the attack on the giant squid, who tries to signal a nearby ship, and who arranges their escape from the Nautilus.

Further, Ned Land acts without thinking, while Aronnax thinks without acting. Often, Ned acts impulsively, sometimes with a bad result but sometimes heroically. Aronnax suffers from ‘paralysis by analysis,’ knowing what he should do, but not doing anything about it.

Land represents the common man in contrast to Aronnax, the upper-class gentleman. Aronnax eats with Nemo and bunks in a room next to the Captain’s. Ned bunks and eats with Conseil in the midships area reserved for the crew. Ned speaks plainly, occasionally joking, while Aronnax speaks like a professor throughout.

The last facet of their contrast is what I’d term the ‘man of nature’ vs. the civilized man. Ned’s comfort zone is the out-of-doors, in the wild, killing and preparing his own dinner. For his part, Aronnax would be lost without his servant and is more at home in drawing rooms and eating gourmet food. Here, most of Verne’s audience would identify closer with the professor, but nonetheless be fascinated by the harpooner.

Given their differing viewpoints, it’s no wonder Aronnax sees the Nautilus as a vessel of underwater exploration, while Land sees only a prison. Aronnax sees Captain Nemo as a rational engineer and scientist, while Land sees him as an insane pirate and jailer.

Although the two share the same goal, leaving the Nautilus, they differ on timeframe and method. Aronnax would like to leave someday, after persuading a captain he sees as reasonable. Land wants to get off the submarine immediately, by force if necessary.

Verne resolves this conflict in a draw. The trio departs the Nautilus far later than Ned would have liked, after spending seven months aboard. However, they must sneak off the ship without the Captain’s permission, during an emergency, and with Ned guiding.

Ned Land, then, is the perfect ‘friendly opposition’ to Pierre Aronnax, giving the novel dramatic tension throughout. Have you ever known someone like Ned Land (except for his harpooner occupation, of course)? A few like him have been known to—

Poseidon’s Scribe

January 12, 2020Permalink

Character Analysis — Conseil

This post begins a short series discussing major characters from Jules Verne’s Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea. I’ll start with Conseil.

First, a reminder. Along with the esteemed and talented Kelly A. Harmon, I will be co-editing Twenty Thousand Leagues Remembered, an anthology of short stories honoring Verne’s novel. Submissions open this Friday, January 10. Although submissions are scheduled to close on April 30, Pole to Pole Publishing accepts stories on the fly, so once the anthology is filled, later stories get rejected. Submit early; all their anthologies have closed before the advertised closing date. See all the details here.

Now, to Conseil. The book’s narrator, Professor Pierre Aronnax, introduces him this way: “Conseil was my manservant. A devoted lad who went with me on all my journeys; a gallant Flemish boy whom I genuinely liked and who returned the compliment; a born stoic, punctilious on principle, habitually hardworking, rarely startled by life’s surprises, very skillful with his hands, efficient in his every duty, and despite his having a name that means “counsel,” never giving advice—not even the unsolicited kind!”

Well, this is mostly true. At thirty years old, Conseil is hardly a lad or boy. Also, that last sentence is doubly ironic. ‘Conseil’ means ‘counsel’ or ‘advice’ in French, and though Aronnax thinks his servant never gives advice, he often does so.

Aronnax goes on to mention Conseil’s habit of referring to his master in the third person. Although we often see Conseil beginning a sentence with, “If Master pleases…” or “If Master will permit me…” this, also, turns out to be a rule broken on occasion.

Conseil’s first characteristic mentioned by Aronnax is devotion, and in this, Conseil is consistent. The servant jumps into the ocean when his master falls in, and helps to keep him afloat. Conseil agrees to don a diving suit when Aronnax does so, and accompanies him on every excursion.

The utterly loyal servant became a stereotypical character in Verne’s novels, most notably with Passepartout in Around the World in Eighty Days, and Nebuchadnezzar (Neb) in The Mysterious Island. In each case, Verne has literary purposes for these characters, such as representing the “common man” to whom the genius explains certain scientific phenomena, or to dramatically play off some other character’s eccentricity, or simply to keep conversations going.

In 20,000 Leagues, Conseil serves as an intermediary between Aronnax and Ned Land. Conseil may be devoted to his master, and shares the professor’s interest in sea creatures, but he is, like Land, a common man and spends a lot of time with the Canadian harpooner. It is Conseil who must explain to Aronnax why Ned Land behaves the way he does.

The servant also becomes the calming influence on all actions in the novel. Whenever Aronnax becomes overly excited or afraid or alarmed, Conseil grounds him and helps him relax. Conseil also attempts to sooth the impetuous Ned Land, but with less effective results.

In a couple of scenes, Conseil becomes the imaginative voice of Verne himself. Early on, Conseil laments “the drawback in not having one universal language,” a cause for which Verne was an enthusiast. Later, when they reach the central Mediterranean, Conseil considers the possibility of a volcanic upheaval closing off that sea from the Atlantic. This foreshadows, in a way, Verne’s later novel Invasion of the Sea.

Conseil serves yet one more purpose in the novel. He is Verne’s tribute to his friend Jacques-Francoise Conseil, who is said to have built a submarine craft in 1858.

Watch this space for more character analyses from—

                                                            Poseidon’s Scribe

January 5, 2020Permalink

9 SciFi Predictions for 2020

Continuing the tradition established last year, I’ll make some predictions for science fiction for the coming year.

First, however, I have an update on Twenty Thousand Leagues Remembered, the upcoming anthology I’m co-editing along with the talented writer and editor Kelly A. Harmon of Pole to Pole Publishing. We’ve moved the opening date for submissions to January 10. Click here for details.

Back, now, to the prognostications. Abandoning my crystal ball, which didn’t work so well, I’ve since mastered the technique of Tasseography, or reading tea leaves. Let’s peer into the cup and see what the leaves reveal:

  • Partisan Politics. SciFi will become more political in this U.S. election year. With the citizenry becoming increasingly partisan, authors will show their political biases and opinions in their stories. Stories will increasingly be either left/liberal or right/conservative. This trend disturbs me, but I have to call ‘em as I see ‘em.
  • Post-Apocalypse. With the decline and death of the dystopia will come the birth of a more hopeful and positive future. We’ll see more stories of civilizations rising from the ashes of past global destruction.
  • Time Travel. There are plenty of time periods left to explore, many with subtle lessons for us today. Despite the risk of paradox, authors will give us more time-traveling protagonists heading off to the past or future. Most of these stories will involve romance to some degree.
  • Climate Fiction. CliFi will remain a strong sub-genre, with authors exploring humanity’s influence on the Earth’s climate. I predict most such stories will either deal with human attempts to fix the climate before a catastrophe or will take place after a climate catastrophe.
  • LBGTQ characters. More protagonists and other major characters will be part of the LGBTQ spectrum. Within these fictional worlds, the cisgendered characters will respect and admire the LGBTQ main characters, not ostracize or mistreat them. Other related works will continue to take place in transhuman, post-gender worlds.
  • Strong Female. The damsel in distress is dead. During the last decade or two, she’s been replaced by the Strong Female. This woman is strong in the sense of being fierce, capable, and not dependent on men. Though by now she’s a stock character, SciFi authors will continue to explore various subtleties and nuances of the Strong Female in 2020.
  • Star Wars Reaction. With the completion of the triple trilogy “Skywalker Saga” in 2019, authors will pen stories reacting to all things Star Wars. In 2020, I anticipate stories satirizing and otherwise mocking aspects of the George Lucas-created franchise, and probably other SciFi fantasies trying to fill the void by launching Star Wars variants.
  • Afrofuturism. Authors in 2020 will weave tales comporting with Afrofuturism 2.0 and Astro-blackness. Audience reaction to the 2018 film Black Panther demonstrated a strong enthusiasm for works merging the themes of the African Diaspora with high technology.
  • Boomer Lit. I see some SciFi in 2020 examining baby boomer themes. This will include stories with older protagonists, as well as stories with strong 1960s nostalgic references.

At the end of 2020, I’ll make every effort to assess these predictions, as I did for my 2019 prophecies. Yogi Berra said, “It’s tough to make predictions, especially about the future,” but I have confidence in the tea leaves, so you should have confidence in the prognostication prowess of—

Poseidon’s Scribe

December 29, 2019Permalink

Looking Back, My 2019 Predictions Assessed

A year ago, I made several predictions about what would happen in 2019. It’s time to assess my skill as a prognosticator.

Like any good soothsayer, I worded some of my predictions so that it’s difficult to say whether they came true or not. Also, I don’t have access to solid data that would confirm whether some came true or not. Still, here goes:

  • Prediction: In 2019, you’ll see more science fiction books written by authors from previously underrepresented groups (women, people of color, LGBTQ, etc.) and these books will explore concepts of belonging and isolation, as well as bending our current notions of gender and race.
    • Assessment: I think this one came true. Certainly 2019 saw the publication of SciFi novels written by women such as Elizabeth Bear, Margaret Atwood, Sarah Pinsker; and people of color such as Cadwell Turnbull, Tade Thompson, and Chen Qiufan; and self-identified members of the LGBTQ community such as Charlie Jane Anders, Annalee Newitz, and C.J. Cherryh. I haven’t verified the second part of my prediction, but I suspect it’s true.
  • Prediction: The superhero theme in movies will peak and begin a gradual decline. It’s been an amazing ride, but I believe the market has saturated and audiences are getting tired.
    • Assessment: It’s too early to tell if I was right. Four superhero movies came out in 2019 compared to seven in 2018, but one of them, Avengers Endgame, was the highest grossing film of all time.
  • Prediction: Very few, if any, best-selling scifi books will feature faster-than-light drive. Most authors have accepted Einstein’s speed of light limit. FTL now seems hokey to readers.
    • Assessment: I don’t have good data on this. Tiamat’s Wrath (Expanse #8) by James S. A. Corey contains gates to other star systems. Alliance Rising by C. J. Cherryh and Jane S. Fancher contains FTL with jump points. Obviously, FTL hasn’t gone away in SciFi, but it’s hard to say if it’s on a downward trend.
  • Prediction: Having already peaked, the steampunk and alternate history genres will continue to wane in books and movies, though they may retain strength in the video gaming world. This genre trend in books is troubling to me, since I enjoy writing steampunk and other alternative history.
    • Assessment: I got that one very wrong. Several good Steampunk novels came out in 2019, including The Secret Chapter (The Invisible Library #6) by Genevieve Cogman; Made Things (Made Things #1) by Adrian Tchaikovsky; Counter Culture by J.L. Merrow; Tarnished Are the Stars by Rosiee Thor; The Light at the Bottom of the World (The Light at the Bottom of the World #1) by London Shah; The Sinister Mystery of the Mesmerizing Girl (The Extraordinary Adventures of the Athena Club #3) by Theodora Goss; and White Hornet (The Viper and the Urchin #5) by Celine Jeanjean)
  • Prediction: We’ll see more Solarpunk, and the Punk Family will grow by a few more. I think there’s a great deal of uncharted territory in the solarpunk genre and a general hunger for it among readers. Most new ‘punks’ added in 2019 will be future-based, rather than alternative histories.
    • Assessment: Again, this prediction’s hard to evaluate. Certainly, The Weight of Light: A Collection of Solar Futures, edited by Clark A. Miller and Joey Eschrich is solarpunk and some have likewise classified Emergency Skin (Forward Collection #3) by N.K. Jemisin; and All City by Alex DiFrancesco as solarpunk. As to new ‘punks’ being added in 2019, I haven’t seen evidence of that.
  • Prediction: There will be fewer dystopian young adult books, and there will be an upsurge in YA depicting a positive (though not utopian) future. I think dystopias have run their course for the time being, and readers are ready for less bleak outlooks.
    • Assessment: I think there were fewer dystopian YA books in 2019, but among them were Internment by Samira Ahmed; The Farm, by Joanne Ramos; and The Water Cure by Sophie Mackintosh. Certainly, Peyton Skoczylas thinks this genre has run its course. However, I didn’t sense an upsurge in 2019 of YA SciFi involving positive futures.
  • Prediction: Overall, as a genre, science fiction will do well in the visual media of movies, video games, and graphic novels, but not in traditional book form. Plenty of authors enjoy writing scifi, but readers will turn away from this genre in greater numbers. This is another prediction I find personally disappointing.
    • Assessment: I couldn’t find data to confirm or deny the truth of this prediction. Plenty of authors did produce SciFi in 2019, but whether readership or revenues went up or down, I don’t know. SciFi in movies, video games, and graphic novels remained strong.
  • Prediction: The trend toward series novels will remain strong. Once modern readers make an emotional investment in a set of characters and their fictional world, they want to know what happens after the first novel, and after the next.
    • Assessment: I nailed this one. In addition to the series novels mentioned above, Moon Rising (Luna #3) by Ian McDonald, Atlas Alone (Planetfall #4) by Emma Newman, Dark Age (Red Rising Saga #5) by Pierce Brown, and several other series novels were published in 2019.

Like the best oracle, my results are an ambiguous mixed bag, subject to interpretation. Perhaps I didn’t do so badly after all. Next week, check this space for predictions about 2020 by—

Poseidon’s Scribe

December 22, 2019Permalink

The Story Behind “Reconnaissance Mission”

Pole to Pole Publishing just released Not Far From Roswell, an anthology of dark short stories involving aliens in New Mexico. My tale called “Reconnaissance Mission” appears there, and you’re about to discover the story behind that story.

When the submission call went out, I figured I’d pass. I don’t often write dark stories or alien visitation fiction. My intellectual side had moved on, but my muse grabbed it by the collar and said, “Come back here. I’ve got an idea. Hold my beer.”

Over the years, I’ve learned to listen to my muse, even when she’s drunk. With alcohol on her breath, she whispered her idea about an alternate version of history where Edgar Allan Poe visits New Mexico and encounters something. My intellect argued back: “I don’t think Poe ever visited that area, and the state of New Mexico didn’t even exist in his time.” The muse replied, “Details, shmetails. Those are your problems.”

My crack research team uncovered some interesting and useful tidbits about Poe. Before going to West Point (yes, he was a cadet, though he didn’t graduate), he had enlisted in the Army in 1827. At that time, many of our Army’s enlisted personnel were recent immigrants from Ireland and Germany, so Poe probably stood out. His regiment was posted to Fort Moultrie in Charleston, South Carolina. Highly intelligent and a quick learner, Poe became the battery’s “artificer.”

The U.S. Army doesn’t have much need of artificers these days, but back then “Tiffys” were vital. They calculated explosive loads and fuse lengths for artillery shells. Any computational error could result in a missed shot, a premature detonation, or even death of the gun crew.

Poe was skilled, though, and rose to the rank of Sergeant Major. His commanding officer, Lieutenant Howard, recognized his talent and urged Poe to apply for the Military Academy. Upon acceptance, Poe entered West Point in 1829.

All that is true. But, my muse asked, what if…? What if the Army ordered one platoon to conduct a clandestine mission to Santa Fe de Nuevo México, then a territory of Mexico? What if their mission had been to assess the military strengths and potential threats of the Mexicans and the Apaches?

Further, what if the platoon encountered something unusual, something that might explain Poe’s later writings, something that seemed very…well…alien?

Then, as is usual for me, the story wrote itself. It’s an origin story for Poe, one that could have happened. Well, there’s no evidence it didn’t happen. As they say, the truth is out there.

You can purchase Not Far From Roswell here. Knowing the fine editors at Pole to Pole Publishing, I’m certain all the stories in that anthology are terrific.

Yes, I know. I owe my muse a beer. Without her, I really wouldn’t be—

Poseidon’s Scribe

December 15, 2019Permalink

Welcome Aboard the Nautilus

The submarine in Jules Verne’s novel Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea is one of the most amazing settings in all of literature. Let’s explore it.   

Before we do, I’ll invite you to write and submit a short story to an anthology I’m co-editing along with the esteemed Kelly A. Harmon of Pole to Pole Publishing. Twenty Thousand Leagues Remembered is intended for release on June 20, 2020, the 150th anniversary of Verne’s masterwork. Click here for details about submitting your story.

As a degreed naval architect and former submariner, I could write many posts about the design of the Nautilus. You can read this book or this one, or peruse this website for more information like that. My purpose today is to explore this submarine as a literary setting.

Before the publication of Verne’s novel, submarines were tiny and dangerous; they could only stay submerged a short time. In the public’s mind they were curiosities, odd little experimental toys. Moreover, electricity was new—a phenomenon with known, but unrealized potential.

At a stroke, Verne astounded readers with a submarine like they’d never imagined. He gave them a glimpse through the veil of the future. The Nautilus was far bigger than any real submarine to date, nearly as big as the naval ironclad surface ships of the time. With a maximum speed of fifty knots, the Nautilus could outrace anything at sea. Moreover, it could dive into any deep-sea trench and only needed to surface once a day for air.

At a time when people lit their homes with whale oil, cooked with wood, and powered ships with coal, Verne sparked their imaginations by giving them an all-electric vessel. “Electricity” was then still almost magical, and Nemo had tamed it for lighting, cooking, and propelling his vessel.

Verne alarmed his readers with a horrible new weapon of war. No longer would the seas be safe when an unseen danger could rise from the depths and cleave ships in two. It’s how the book began, with mariners terrified of a ‘sea monster’ that struck without warning.

Yet the Nautilus had another side, as Pierre Aronnax learned. It was a civilized vessel, with a vast library and a relaxing parlor or salon with paintings, busts, and display cases. Yes, even a pipe organ. Large portals opened to provide a window to the sea, making this submarine a vessel of exploration, too.

But Verne’s surprises didn’t end there. For the sailors of the Nautilus, the sea wasn’t merely their workplace. It was home. Unlike all previous humans, they lived their lives in the ocean, never making land, eating only seafood, and being buried in the depths.

For Conseil, Pierre Aronnax, and especially Ned Land, the Nautilus was also an iron prison from which escape seemed impossible. Before the phrase ‘gilded cage’ came in vogue, Verne trapped his characters within one. The scenes played out between metal bulkheads with characters caught in an odd dichotomy. Freer than anyone else to explore the vast oceans, they could not pass beyond the Nautilus’ steel hull. Were they guests, or prisoners, or both?

The Nautilus was, and remains, unique. Some literary scholars consider it a character in its own right. I don’t go that far, but this submarine makes for a remarkable setting. Many novels since have been set aboard submarines, but we must measure all fictional subs against the standard of the Nautilus.

That concludes our tour. Watch your step on the ladder and don’t hit your head on the hatchway. Please exit quickly; if Captain Nemo found out I’d brought you aboard, I’m not sure what he’d do to—

Poseidon’s Scribe

December 8, 2019Permalink