Tag Archives: “The Unparalleled Attempt to Rescue One Hans Pfaall”

What’s in a Title?

Last week I wrote about the opening lines in a story. But before you read the opening, you read the title. Do you struggle to come up with appropriate, catchy titles for your stories? Read on…

Some writers have no problem with titles. In fact, there are authors who think up a clever title, and write a story to suit it.

On the other hand, some start with a ‘working title,’ intending to come up with a real title later. When that time arrives, they get stuck, unable to create a suitable title. Writing the 5000-word story was no problem, but coming up with just 1-10 words is maddening.

Author Stephen Pressfield offers some great advice in this blogpost. He says to let the theme of your story suggest the title, and he gives some great examples.

In her post on titles, author Lynne Lumsden Green goes a bit further. She says a title should (1) be memorable, (2) encompass the theme of the story, and (3) not give too much away.

I agree, though I don’t think you should agonize over your title. I’d spend more time on the story’s opening and closing lines. Even so, I often brainstorm about 20-30 titles before hitting on the right one.

Be aware, when choosing your title, even words like ‘the’ can be important. That word denotes one particular thing. To take an example from my stories, “Moonset” (from the Re-Terrify anthology) evokes a periodic event that happens daily. “The Moonset” suggests one particular setting of the moon. The one-word version was more appropriate for my story.

Here are some explanations for the titles of my stories:

“Broken Flute Cave” is also the setting of the story, a cavern so-named because a modern discoverer found what looked like broken flutes inside. My story is the origin story, or pourquoi story of the last Native American flute player to occupy that cave.

“Reconnaissance Mission” (in the Not Far From Roswell anthology) has a double meaning in this story. The tale follows Army Sergeant Major Edgar Allan Poe as he participates in a recon mission to Nuevo México. There he finds his is not the only team conducting such a mission.

“The Unparalleled Attempt to Rescue One Hans Pfaall” (in the Quoth the Raven anthology) is a sequel to Edgar Allan Poe’s story “The Unparalleled Adventure of One Hans Pfaall.” I could hardly have titled it any other way.  

“Instability” (in the Dark Luminous Wings anthology) is another title with double meanings. A medieval monk builds wings and tries to fly, but can’t control his flight. Moreover, some of the other monks question his sanity.

“Time’s Deformèd Hand” is a phrase from the Shakespeare play “The Comedy of Errors.” My story—in the clockpunk genre—has many references to time, clocks, and calendars, and errors associated with time measurement. The grave accent mark (`) means to pronounce that usually-silent ‘e’ as you would in ‘ranted.’

“Last Vessel of Atlantis” (combined in one volume with “Rallying Cry”) evokes the wonder of that legendary lost continent. The word ‘vessel’ has two meanings in the story—a ship and a container of liquids. In fact, the first published version of that story was titled “The Vessel.”

“The Six Hundred Dollar Man” references the 1970s TV show “The Six Million Dollar Man” but mine is a steampunk version taking place in the American Wild West.

The next time you’re stressing about how to title a story, you’ll remember the profound and timeless advice of the one who titles himself—

Poseidon’s Scribe

March 28, 2021Permalink

7 Ways to Start Your Science Fiction Short Story

Oh, those choosy readers! So pressed for time, so easily distracted. If you don’t begin your SF short story in an imaginative, attention-grabbing way, they won’t read further. Let’s find out how to hook them.

Author Charlie Jane Anders wrote a great post citing seven killer openings for SF short stories, with classic examples for each one. I highly recommend her post.

Here, in brief, is my take on her list, with examples from my stories:

1. Set the Scene. Put us ‘there’ right away. Immerse us in the strangeness of your setting. Most SF stories begin this way. Use when setting is important, but get to the plot’s action soon after.

Personal Example, from “The Sea-Wagon of Yantai:”

2. Introduce Conflict. Hit us with the problem first. What is your character dealing with? Fill in other details later. Good way to hook readers, but a bit chancy if your bomb’s a dud, or if the rest of the story doesn’t live up to its start.

Personal Example, from “A Tale More True:”

3. Mystify. Intrigue and confuse us. Cast us in without knowing our bearings yet. A risky way to start, but when it works, it works well.

Personal Example, from “The Cats of Nerio-3:”

4. Gather ‘Round, Children. Have a talkative narrator speak to the reader in third person, often addressing the reader as ‘you.’ Often used in humor stories, but you need to keep that narration intriguing, and sustain it.

Personal (though approximate) Example, from “Reconnaissance Mission:”

5. There I was. Have the talkative narrator, the main character, self-identifying as “I,” speak to the reader in first person. Often these stories start in a reflective, essay-like tone. Helps readers identify with the main character right away, but you need to get to the plot action and the scene-setting soon after.

No Personal Examples

6. Start With a Quote. This can be a quote from another document, or (more often) a character speaking. Good way to introduce a character’s personality right away, but if done wrong, this beginning can come off as juvenile.

Personal Example, from “The Unparalleled Attempt to Rescue One Hans Pfaall:”

7. Open With a Puzzle. Combine 2. and 3. above to introduce a conflict while also mystifying. This is the most difficult of the seven methods. Great when it works, but awful when it doesn’t.

Personal Example, from “Moonset:”

You should work hard on the opening lines of your short stories. Try several, or all, of the examples above until you hit on one you feel is right. Attempt, in a sentence or two, to (1) grab the reader, (2) introduce the main character, (3) present or suggest the conflict, (4) set the mood or tone of the story, and (5) perhaps give a hint of the ending for circular closure.

Now go out and grab your readers, using the methods of—

Poseidon’s Scribe

March 21, 2021Permalink

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

Interview with a Moon Voyager

Today I’m interviewing the first man to land on the moon. I’m speaking, of course, about Hans Pfaall, who appears in my story “The Unparalleled Attempt to Rescue One Hans Pfaall,” in the anthology Quoth the Raven. It’s my sequel to the Edgar Allan Poe story, “The Unparalleled Adventure of One Hans Pfaall.”

Poseidon’s Scribe: Greetings, Mr. Pfaall. And welcome to my blog. Thank you for consenting to this interview.

Hans Pfaall: Thank you, Mr. Southard. However, I confess I do not know what a ‘blog’ is, nor do I understand how you are able to conduct an interview under these circumstances.

P.S.: Never mind all that. Let’s focus on you. First, am I pronouncing your name correctly? Does Pfaall rhyme with ‘pail’ or ‘ball?’

H.P.: You’re pronouncing it correctly.

P.S.: Um….okay. Let’s move on. Up until five years ago, in 1830, where did you live and work?

H.P.: I was a citizen of Rotterdam. I repaired fireplace bellows.

P.S.: But then you went on a remarkable voyage. Please tell us about that.

Illustration by Yan Dargent

H.P.: I constructed a balloon of my own design and used it to travel to the Moon.

P.S.: I can’t believe that. All on your own, with meager resources, you built a balloon?

H.P.: Not on my own. That would be ridiculous. My wife and three men assisted me.

P.S.: How were you able to travel, let alone breathe, in the vacuum of space?

H.P.: You suffer from a widely held misconception. The space between the Earth and its satellite is not a vacuum. Although the air is thin, one can use a compressor apparatus to render it breathable, which I did.

P.S.: I see. Once you reached the Moon, what did you find there?

H.P.: The most significant things were the numerous hamlets and the single sizable city, in which I landed. Also of interest were the natives, who are similar to us in many ways, except for their diminutive stature and their lack of ears. I wrote about all of this in a letter; I gave it to one of the Lunarians and sent him back to Earth in a balloon for delivery to the officials of Rotterdam. Did they not receive it?

P.S.: They did. But your letter ended with some tantalizing mysteries. Please describe those.

H.P.: I presume you’re speaking of the strange connection between every human on Earth and a particular Lunarian. Not only does such twinning exist, unbeknown to us, but the lives and destinies of the linked individuals are interwoven with each other. Moreover, I believe I mentioned in the letter something about the dark and hideous mysteries that lie on the far side of the Moon, the side forever turned away from Earth.

P.S.: Right. Don’t you think those things deserved more than one paragraph?

H.P.: That letter had rambled on too long already. I will write more letters soon.

P.S.: Did you think about the effect such a letter might have on the residents of Rotterdam? I’ve heard they may send a rescue mission.

H.P.: What? I didn’t ask to be rescued. I don’t want to be rescued.

P.S.: You’re happy, staying on the Moon?

H.P.: Quite happy, sir.

P.S.: Well, this is a bit awkward. The rescuers are…um…

H.P.: What do you mean? Are you saying they’re on their way already? Tell them to turn back!

Poseidon’s Scribe: I’m just an author. I don’t have complete control over these things. But, thank you for this fascinating interview.

Hans Pfaall: No, this isn’t over. Promise me you’ll get the rescuers to return home. I don’t want to be rescued! Tell them!

 

Sheesh. That interview didn’t go exactly as I’d planned. In the anthology Quoth the Raven, you can read the story, “The Unparalleled Attempt to Rescue One Hans Pfaall” written by—

Poseidon’s Scribe

November 4, 2018Permalink

Who the Heck is Mynheer Superbus Von Underduk?

Edgar Allan Poe could be just as creative with character names as Charles Dickens, or Dr. Seuss, for that matter. I’ll tell you about Poe’s story first, and then introduce Von Underduk.

Among Poe’s least remembered short stories is “The Unparalleled Adventure of One Hans Pfaall.” Hmm…Pfaall. Would that be pronounced ‘fail’ or ‘fall?’ Both would be apt, and Poe probably intended the ambiguity.

Illustration by Yan Dargent

In Poe’s story, the citizens of Rotterdam were alarmed when a peculiar balloon appeared above the city. How peculiar? Its gasbag was made from newspapers, and its lone occupant was an earless dwarf. This odd aeronaut remained silent,  but dropped a sealed letter before his balloon drifted from sight.

The anxious citizens read the letter, written by Hans Pfaall, a repairer of fireplace bellows and former resident of Rotterdam, who hadn’t been seen for five years. Pfaall’s letter described how he’d constructed a balloon and voyaged to the Moon.

Near the end of his letter, Pfaall mentioned he had much to say about the strange inhabitants of the Moon, about an odd connection between Lunarians and Earthlings, and some “dark and hideous mysteries” which lay on the Moon’s far side. There his letter, and Poe’s story, ended.

Poe intended to write further installments of this story, but never did, since another author upstaged him with an outlandish Moon hoax story. Still, the questions posed by Hans Pfaall’s letter have gone unanswered since 1835…

Until now.

My sequel to Poe’s story is “The Unparalleled Attempt to Rescue One Hans Pfaall” and it appears in the anthology Quoth the Raven, which just launched today, exactly 169 years after the day of Poe’s death.

The good people of Rotterdam wouldn’t let Hans Pfaall remain trapped on the Moon. They’d organize a rescue, of course. They have everything they need. They have determination and grit. They have Pfaall’s letter with its detailed description of his balloon.

But most of all, they have Mynheer Superbus Von Underduk, the Burgomaster (mayor) of Rotterdam. Though a politician, Von Underduk is a man of many fine qualities:

  • He’s decisive and bold. Von Underduk takes little more than a month to consider the matter and authorize the rescue expedition.
  • He’s trusting and empowering. “Herr Pfaall, do not touch anything else unless I agree first. Understand?”
  • He humbly shares the spotlight. That miserable bellows repairman is not the only one capable of magnificent acts of lasting greatness…This time I alone will get the credit and the glory.
  • Most of all, he’s loving and tender. It should be understood that I, however, loathe him with hatred beyond all cosmic boundaries.

Now you can follow the journey of Burgomaster Mynheer Superbus Von Underduk and his fellow 19th Century astronauts as they pursue their desperate mission of rescue. Discover answers to the dark and hideous mysteries mentioned by Poe.

Buy Quoth the Raven and read “The Unparalleled Attempt to Rescue One Hans Pfaall” written by—

Poseidon’s Scribe

October 7, 2018Permalink