Reader Question: What is the best way to explain foreign technology in science fiction?
This question was sent to me anonymously via my Formspring profile. After thinking about it for a while, I’ve come to the realization that it’s not exactly an easy one to answer. There are no hard-set rules for how to deal with description and explanation in fiction, particularly in science fiction. People try to say that there are, but any time someone comes up with a writing rule that is rigid and absolute, rather than usually right, but reasonably flexible, you should know you’re dealing with a bad piece of advice. “Show, don’t tell,” for example, is not absolute, yet it is told as if it is. This question is very much related to that, and I’m going to try to answer it based on my experience as a writer and as a reader, since what works and doesn’t work is, for me, tied up in both. Explaining technology, specifically technology that is foreign to the reader, is not an easy task primarily because how you can or should explain will depend very much on the situation. For example, typically one explains something in one of the following three ways: –Telling ItLiterally writing “it does this,” but, preferably, in more eloquent prose. –Showing ItDescribing the thing in action. For example, instead of saying how a toaster works, the author would simply show it doing what it was designed to do. A simple example, but the point easily applies to anything else. –By ComparisonYou can apply comparison to “telling” or “showing.” By using a comparison you are essentially saying that your new-fangled thing is similar to this old thing, but different because of X, Y, and Z, perhaps implicitly or explicitly. All three of these types have their place in science fiction (and fiction in general), and any writer can make all of them work. While the universal rule has always been “show, don’t tell,” trying to show too much can be just as annoying as trying to tell too much. It’s a balance issue. If you have a new technology present in a scene, but have no reason to show that thing in action (perhaps because it isn’t integral to the plot), then you should avoid telling or showing it at all. But if you need the main character to know what something does before s/he uses it, then you can’t avoid telling the audience what’s what. The rule about telling really should be: use it sparingly. If you can show it, then do so. If you can’t without bogging down the story, then don’t. “Show, don’t tell” really only applies in its most rigid sense when you are talking about action. You always want to avoid telling in action. You can bring in emotions and brief snippets of things, but the reason why writers say to avoid telling is because it typically bogs down action, which is not a good thing when you want your reader to be engrossed in what is going on. The last from the list above is one that gets used from time to time, but never really discussed. Depending on the situation, using a comparison is very much a form of telling, but it can be done in a way that a) doesn’t bog down the story, and b) keeps things brief and to the point. For example, instead of describing how a futuristic printing press works, you can simply make a comparison between the presses of today and note, briefly, the differences (similes and metaphors are a must). Simpler versions use old terms with a modifier (laser toaster; you know what it does and how just by the title–a ridiculous example, sure, but it gets the point across). This method isn’t used often and really doesn’t apply to very complicated processes or systems, particularly if your audience doesn’t know those systems, but it can be very effective. Ultimately, if you don’t have to tell how something works, or even describe it, then don’t. If there’s no reason for it, then that’s really the only response you should have. If you do have to describe something, however, then consider how it would be best to do so; the more complicated of a system/process it is, the less likely you can reduce it to an info-dump without pulling your readers out of the story. This applies to all forms of fiction. In the end, the best way to deal with this is to come to terms with whether you have to describe it. Don’t waste space doing something you don’t need to do. What about you? If you’ve found ways to deal with this, let me know in the comments! ————————————- If you’d like to ask me a question about science fiction, fantasy, books, writing, or whatever (anonymously, even), feel free to ask on my Formspring page.
eBooks and the Future of Books: A Question From WhoHub
Someone on WhoHub recently asked me the following and I thought I would respond here: What is your experience with ebook readers? Are they comfortable for your eyes? Will the paper book fade away? One thing that an old-school book lover like me has had to admit is that eReaders have gone from being clunky, annoying devices, to aesthetically pleasing monsters with a lot of potential. Personally, I don’t think eReaders are quite there yet. The Apple iPad, while not strictly an eReader, has the potential to essentially destroy the entire eReader market, but the 1.0 is far from being the device it should be. Likewise, eBook-specific devices like Amazon’s Kindle, the various Sony readers, and Barnes & Noble’s Nook all have a lot of great features, but also a lot of bugs; all of those are heading in the right direction, but none of them have quite reached that point where I, as a potential buyer, see the benefit to me. Why is that? First, eReaders are expensive. Almost all of them are over $200; for me, that’s a lot to spend on a device that a) doesn’t excel at what it does, and b) is not at the pinnacle of its device history. MP3 players, for example, have gone well past their peak, but the result is that pretty much every major MP3-specific device still being sold right now is excellent at what it does and reasonably priced. The eReader market isn’t quite there yet. For example, most of the eReaders have significant problems with justified text, which is pretty much the gold standard for text formatting for any book, and part of what makes them pleasing to the eyes. When you have lines with strange caps or ragged edges, it strains the reading process (and this might also explain why professors are always quite irritated when they have to grade papers). Second, I still love dead-tree media. Books are lovely things. They have strange smells, interesting texture, and a load of other appealing features that other forms don’t have. No eReader can match this, but with a low enough price tag, features that work at a more-than-adequate level, and more attention paid to how we read books, I might be influenced to buy an eBook-specific device. Right now, the only purpose I have in purchasing an eReader is to make it easier for publishers to send me review copies of books without incurring unnecessary shipping costs (it costs basically nothing to send me an electronic file); even that, though, is not as easy as it sounds, since publishers and their friends use annoying DRM on everything they create for the electronic market. DRM, by the way, is generally despised by anyone who regularly uses the Internet, and for good reason. Having said all of this, I think it only fair that I point out some of the things that I do like about eReaders based on personal experience with them. I’ve already talked about the Nook before, and eReaders in general, but one thing that I think eReaders and devices that have the capability to display eBooks have going for them is functionality. No, they are not, as I have already pointed out, perfect, nor all that wonderful at what they do, but things like the Nook, or, hell, even the iPad (which I loathe simply because it’s Apple) have great interfaces and sleek design, something that, unfortunately, the Kindle and the Sony Reader currently don’t have. The result is that these two devices have a lot of potential (the iPad more so than anything else, since it can do so much). But most eReaders do have weight going for them, with the exception of the iPad, and reading from them doesn’t hurt the eyes, which should alleviate any concerns people may have about them–this despite the clunky design of some of the bigger eReaders out there, like the Kindle. Really, there are a lot of great things to be said about eReaders, despite the fact that I’m not ready to throw down $200 to get one. They have come a long way, and I absolutely believe that the next ten years will bring us superior, standard-setting devices, better functionality, and a larger market. While I don’t think eBooks will destroy the print market, I do think that eReaders have the potential to increase the market of readers ten fold by tapping into a demographic of non-readers or infrequent-readers that have gone relatively unscathed by the print market (with the exception of the YA market, which has exploded and sucked in a lot of young would-be readers; I’d argue, though, that you can’t really count young people in the non-reading category until they become adults, but that’s another discussion entirely). The worst-case-scenario for the print market is one in which eReaders dominate the reading market, and print is relegated to special-edition/collector status. Things like signed editions of books really don’t work in the eBook market simply because their value in the print market is predicated upon limited printings, which is not possible to reproduce in electronic form (and even if you can, someone will simply hack that form and distribute it online; you can certainly scan books, but an electronic scan can never reach the same value plane as the printed article). The best-case-scenario is a larger reading public. This is the one that I both think will happen and hope will happen. Instead of taking over, eReaders simply suck in new readers, take a few readers from the printed medium who are more inclined to read on an electronic device anyway, and, overall, triple the size of the publishing industry (which means more books, more writers, and more money for publishers and writers alike). That, in my book, is a darn good thing. But, these are all predictions that, quite honestly, will probably turn out to be wrong. I was wrong way back in the day when I said that eBooks would never catch on
Fantasy Essentials: What Should I Have Read?
Somewhere along the line I began getting criticized for not being all that great at writing fantasy because I had not read enough in the genre. Maybe this is true, and if so, I would like to rectify that, to the best of my ability. So, to all those reading this, I’m calling on you for help. In the comments, let me know which five fantasy novels you think I absolutely must read. They can be any fantasy novel except the following: The Lord of the Rings, Eragon, Harry Potter, and George R. R. Martin. I’ve either already read those or tried to read them, so including them here would be meaningless at the moment. Have at it. Tell me which five you think I should read and why!
Reader Question: Future Definitions
Bowie of Young Writers Online was on a role when he was asking questions. Here goes: Realistically speaking, would we consider a “holo-vid” a television or would we somehow adapt to calling it a “holo-vid”? Most likely we would call it a hol0-vid, or whatever term was created to describe that new technology. New advances in technology produce new devices that may provide the same services as something before it, but in new and unique ways. Historically speaking, we tend to refer to these new technologies by their new names. We don’t call PDAs by anything other than PDA or handheld device, despite it being a miniature computer w/o a keyboard. An iPod is not a Walkman and even a laptop/notebook computer is often referred to as a laptop/notebook computer rather than as a portable computer or just a computer. While we may acknowledge that new technologies are “genetically” linked to older ones, we still take liberties with naming and stick with what is new, going back to old terminology only when we need to explain something in greater detail or for some other purpose. Right now, I’m writing on a laptop or notebook computer, whichever name best suits you. When the future rolls on through, it will bring with it a lot of new gadgets that will have different names and terminology. Unless those items are quite clearly derivations of something before (i.e. a 2nd generation iPod is still just an iPod, even though it’s technically more advanced and more functional than the previous generation), we tend to rename them. Human beings are remarkable at adopting new language. As an example, we can look at slang. When I was in high school, all those years ago, I remember the word “sick” coming into play (for those that don’t know, “sick” is sort of like saying “cool,” but in a more “cool” way). Within a couple weeks it was across the entire campus, and by the time I had finished my school year, that word had traveled to my previous home in Washington (across two states) and had been readily adopted. That’s the fascinating thing about language. It always changes with us human beings. Always. The same is true for technology, and as we progress we will see the language change. Ten years ago we didn’t have an iPod. Everything was by CD and mp3s were still becoming the dominant form over .wav and other formats. Now? If you don’t know what an mp3 is, you’re perceived as an idiot who has been living in the jungle, or really old, and if you don’t know what an iPod is, well, you’ll end up getting some looks until you can explain why. That’s the nature of language. Always changing, always adjusting, and always progressing. What about you, the readers? Do you think we will call holo-vids by what they are, or will we simply refer to them as TVs? ————————————————- If you have a question about science fiction, fantasy, writing, or anything related you’d like answered here, whether silly or serious, feel free to send it via email to arconna[at]yahoo[dot]com, tweet it via Twitter to @shaunduke, or leave it in the comments here. Questions are always welcome! If you liked this post, consider stumbling, digging, or linking to it!
Reader Question: Lingual Formalities, Schmalities
If memory serves me, this question comes from Bowie of Young Writers Online: In most science fiction and fantasy stories, people speak in a more formal way. Why is that? Is it to reinforce the idea that it’s a different world than we know? Firstly, it’s not true that most SF/F resorts to formal modes of communication. A great deal of classic SF/F does, but modern derivations of the two genres have seen a remarkable, and much appreciated, shift from the trappings established by Tolkien all those years ago. And this is where we get into the unfortunate side effect of Tolkien’s brilliance. Despite writing what most consider to be the greatest fantasy trilogy of all times, Tolkien hammered into new and past writers several unfortunate habits. You see, Tolkien was trying to recreate something in The Lord of the Rings, a certain feel, if you will. He was successful on all counts, not only in fabricating a detailed, elaborate fantasy world, but also in trying to fashion an imagined, realistic history of an England that might have been (though the fact that, as far as I can tell, Middle Earth looks nothing like England could make for a good counter argument). In doing so, Tolkien fixed into the minds of fantasy lovers everywhere what were the defining characteristics of the genre, despite his setting out to create an effective, mythologized, and complex historical novel. The language, thus, is exceptionally dated, even for his time, and the clichés were snatched up by fans without hesitation. It has taken the fantasy genre a long time to work out of the habit of writing in absurd formal dialogue. But it has happened, and it has, in almost every instance, been to emulate Tolkien rather than to produce something truly original. There is nothing wrong with emulation, insofar as such emulation is still trying to impress upon readers an experience, despite its biased leanings. What is problematic, as is true of all tropes, clichés, etc. in fantasy, is that these sorts of staples effectively damage the genre when done poorly. Of course, to call a lot of published works “poor recreations” is somewhat unfair, particularly because readers have varying expectations, and what I want or expect in fantasy literature will almost always be at least slightly different from what other readers want. Readers do like Tolkien-esque fantasies, a lot–and that’s really an understatement. Sometimes there are reasons (they have read a lot and prefer that style) and other times it is due to ignorance (some might say that most Twilight and Eragon fans like those works because they have no read “good” fantasy yet). Invariably, it is hard to argue with how things actually are in this instance: derivations exist and will continue to do so, provided that readers are still interested in such things in the future. There is also the healthy obsession with medieval literature that most fantasy writers have, whether they are willing to admit it or not. That contributors to the persistence of this form of dialogue. Now the question is, are these sorts of formal dialogue stylings good or bad, in your opinion? I view them as either/or, because, in some cases, it works. But that’s me, and I want to see your opinion. Leave me a comment with your thoughts! ————————————————- If you have a question about science fiction, fantasy, writing, or anything related you’d like answered here, whether silly or serious, feel free to send it via email to arconna[at]yahoo[dot]com, tweet it via Twitter to @shaunduke, or leave it in the comments here. Questions are always welcome! If you liked this post, consider stumbling, digging, or linking to it!
Reader Question: The Alien Exit
Mercy from Young Writers Online had this interesting question to ask: Why does everyone resort to aliens in recent sci-fi/gov/end of the world movies? Because aliens are easy. People do not question aliens as the villains, because, despite all our efforts to acknowledge our difficulty in understanding and dealing with the human/Other dichotomy, we are still as xenophobic as ever, regardless of race or gender. Aliens represent the ultimate Other, the figure that is so clearly not human, that any human argument cannot figure them into a human version of the human/Other dichotomy. Similar logic allows for the continued discrimination against animals—because they are not “human,” and, thus, do not, under any circumstance, deserve the same rights as you or me. We are human, they are not, and no matter how hard you might want to argue for their humanness, we will always refute it with DNA evidence, a factor we can no longer use to apply to people of color (no logical genetic variations exist in the various “races” to adequately provide evidence for the argument that we are different). The alien, thus, is the easiest target to choose, especially in harder times. Hollywood is remarkable at knowing viewer trends. They have people somewhere who watch viewer habits to determine how they will react to movies under different situations. It seems that they have determined that we really don’t need any more instances of human error in our end of the world stories, or even in a lot of our science fiction (w/ exception to certain movies). Aliens offer a way out, a way of saying “now you have a bad guy who doesn’t exist, who, as far as we, cannot actually harm any of you or do any of the things in our movie.” After all, why worry about the rights of imaginary creatures? Why indeed. They’re aliens. Fictional aliens. There’s no need for us to ponder the possibility of their existence, nor how we might treat them if, by a stroke of luck, we meet one of these strange creatures. But, to be fair to Hollywood, they are on a remake kick, and much of the films that fit into this category of “the aliens did it” are re-imagined tellings of old movies, such as The Day the Earth Stood Still and even Knowing, which was not a direct remake, but certainly a rehash of a story that has been told numerous times before (heck, even Childhood’s End by Arthur C. Clarke has an ending which reflects very much the bizarre final moments of that Nicholas Cage flick). These are my arguments, though, and certainly not absolutes. Anyone reading this is welcome to chime in if you have a different opinion (or the same opinion). Just be thankful that we’re not resorting to old giant monster clichés…oh, nevermind, there was Cloverfield, a bastardization of the genre by the evil and craptastic J. J. Abrams. Seems like science fiction movies are in full rehash mode. ————————————————- If you have a question about science fiction, fantasy, writing, or anything related you’d like answered here, whether silly or serious, feel free to send it via email to arconna[at]yahoo[dot]com, tweet it via Twitter to @shaunduke, or leave it in the comments here. Questions are always welcome! If you liked this post, consider stumbling, digging, or linking to it!