Reader Question: Science Fiction Definition (and Other Rhyming Goodness)(Part One)
Kelsey, a friend from Facebook and Young Writers Online, recently asked me the following question: This might be a stupid question, but what exactly defines SciFi, or what are the characteristics? Most people think (like my pitiful self) of space-ships, but I’ve also heard 1984 and other such books being called SciFi. Firstly, I want to make it clear that I am not going to get into the debate over the differences between the terms “science fiction” and “scifi.” Kelsey is specifically talking about the genre as a whole, and any discussions over the subtle nuances that separate the “serious” genre from its “entertainment-oriented” brother/sister will distract from the issue at hand. Secondly, my answer to this question is a personal one, and while I may consider it to be the right one, others will obviously disagree. This post should then become more of an open forum to discuss what may be the defining elements of science fiction as a genre, as in those elements which most easily define it without getting into a sempiternal dispersion of “or”s and “unless”s. Defining science fiction has been and continues to be one of the most challenging issues for writers and fans of the genre. Many have argued for various versions of definition, but no single definition, at least one that has been specifically defined, has been accepted or held firm by the public, writers, or the publishing industry. We run into a huge problem with defining science fiction due to absurd debates about what is and is not science fiction. Some argue that science fiction is not serious, that it is a genre fashioned entirely for entertainment, and anything that happens to use the furniture of science fiction, but is “serious” or “literary,” must not be debased by the term “science fiction.” Thus, high literary critics argue that 1984 and other classic examples of science fiction (Brave New World, Utopia, We, etc.) are literary endeavors and above the purview of the “pulpy nonsense” that has typically made up science fiction as a genre. But these sorts of arguments miss the point: that science fiction is like any other genre of literature and contains within itself the markings of good and bad, serious and juvenile, great and mediocre. With that in mind, how do we define such a genre if it is, at any point in time, a collage of elements equally as vast as its sister genre, fantasy? Here we have to look to two of the most recognized literary theorists who have, at one point or another, focused their attention onto a genre that has largely been ridiculed and treated with derision: Samuel R. Delany and Darko Suvin. Delany, to my understanding, argues for a verbal or lingual understanding of science fiction. While this is made far more complex and limiting in his various critical approaches to this theoretical model, the basic premise of science fiction as a linguistically designated genre delves into the “how” of the reading process (in science fiction). You do not read a science fiction novel the same way you read a romance novel, because what may be seemingly mundane in romance will be quite the opposite in science fiction. I am, unfortunately, not nearly as familiar with his theories as I would like to be, but it is still interesting to note this approach to understanding what science fiction is. Suvin, however, makes the argument that science fiction is “cognitive estrangement.” Broken down, this means that science fiction is about taking a cognitive element and twisting it so that it drags the reader to a different space–a space that is occupied by both the estranged (unreal, perhaps) and the cognitive (understood to be true at a particular time, or to at least be based on a cognitive element). Specifically, this takes into account the two elements of the term “science fiction” (i.e. science and fiction). Since one is, by default, a product of the imagined, to varying degrees, and the former is a product of human understanding of the natural world, these terms converge together to form a world view that is not only aware of what is or probably is true, but is also aware of the fictive reality that exists in the realm of speculation. This concept, perhaps, explains the initial creation of the term “speculative fiction” to mean, roughly, the same as “science fiction,” because ultimately what science fiction does is speculate upon possibilities, on potential realities broken from the temporal and spacial plane of reality. Hence, cognitive estrangement: since cognition is a process/perception of understanding based on learning and reason, to estrange that perception is to take it to a stage above current reality into one of the possible reality (i.e. where much of the “what if” questions arise from within early and middle-age science fiction). I tend to agree with Suvin, but because most who are familiar with his theoretical approach to science fiction only know it at its most basic, it tends to hold a limited view. Suvin, of course, discusses at length in various essays how he envisions the genre and where to draw the line. Due to the length of this post, I’m going to have to cut this short here. In the second part to this, I’d like to draw my own line. For now, feel free to open the discussion on what you think science fiction is. A good debate would do us some good, I think. Read Part Two ————————————————- 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: Dialogue Tags (Friend or Foe?)
Tsuki (a friend from Young Writers Online) recently asked me whether dialogue tags are good or bad, so I thought I would tackle that question here. The problem with dialogue tags is that everyone who has been professionally/traditionally published, and has been successful at it, has different opinions on how to properly use dialogue tags. Michael A. Stackpole, for example, often argues (on the Dragon Page and elsewhere) that dialogue tags are pretty much pointless, and that having them in your prose can create unnecessary clutter. Others, such as Stephen King, say that the only dialogue tags you should use are “he said/she said.” There are a myriad of opinions on this subject and none of them are necessarily correct. Much of what matters when it comes to dialogue tags is based on personal style. I very much doubt that readers care whether you use “he said/she said” or no tags at all; the folks who tend to care most about that are writers themselves with particular tastes in how things should be done. But is there a right way to do it? The way I’ve come to see dialogue tags is that they’re generally unnecessary. There’s little reason to have “he said/she said” primarily because it should be pretty obvious who is speaking in your prose. If your characters are distinct individuals, and you throw in useful description around your dialogue to help differentiate who is talking, why would you ever need “he said/she said”? We don’t say “he said/she said” in the real world. We just say it. That being said, if you’re going to use dialogue tags, stick with the standard (“he said/she said”). Anything else is amateur at best (such as “he replied” or “she spat” or he grumbled”). If your character is doing something a certain way, show it to us rather than telling us about it. Dialogue should have a flow to it. I personally have a lot of issues with dialogue, but removing unnecessary dialogue tags helps a great deal. If you decide to use dialogue tags, keep them simple. Clogging your prose with antiquated terms and pointless descriptive language to make your dialogue seem more interesting will ruin the feel of your story. And that’s a big no-no if you want to keep the attention of your audience. What about all you readers? What do you do with your dialogue and why? ——————————————- 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!
Question to Readers: Content Again
This question will be quick. I’ve received a few emails regarding promotional material and what not–obviously about books. Would you all be okay with a post here or there talking about books coming out, etc.? I don’t expect it to be a frequent thing, since I only have three or four bits of promotional material sitting in my email, but if that would be interesting to you all, I’ll go ahead with it. It will not replace regular programming. It’ll become, more or less, like the little extra posts I do for videos, websites, links, etc. Let me know in the comments. Thanks!
Reader Question: Colon-oscopies (or How to Use the Colon and Its Cousin)
Tsuki over at Young Writers Online asked: How the hell do you use a colon or semi-colon correctly? This should be fairly easy to answer. Here goes: ColonsThe colon is primarily used to attach lists or related statements to an already completed sentence. Here’s an example: Billy wanted to buy three things while he was at the store: bubble gum, bananas, and a new wheel for his hamster. Obviously that is a very simplistic sentence, but it should give you a good idea of how the colon functions. The thing to realize with a colon is that the sentence that precedes it must necessarily be complete. You can’t have a colon preceded by a sentence that cannot stand on its own. What follows the colon must always be an extension of the preceding clause. SemicolonsThese little buggers can be a bit tricky. A semicolon is used to connect two related independent clauses. What that means is that each part of the sentence that houses a semicolon must be complete in and of themselves. Example: Jill cheered for her husband as he marched to the front lines for war; however, the thought of losing him cut close. Each part of the sentence must be independent (i.e. can stand by itself as its own sentence) and there has to be a relationship between them. You wouldn’t talked about Jill’s cheering and then how beer is a wonderful drink, unless somehow you’re connecting the two. As for when to use either of these, that’s more a personal choice than anything else. I use semicolons quite a lot in my fiction primarily because I like it, but it is completely unnecessary. It does add a certain flare to your prose–although, to be fair, I think that’s more based on my personal preferences than anything else. The colon is one that you’ll be hard-pressed to find an adequate use for in fiction. The reason is that the colon doesn’t have much use in fiction is because it isn’t exactly designed for the styles of fiction written today. You see it primarily within the more academic realms (essays, journalism, and other non-fiction venues). You can certainly find uses for it in fiction, but it still needs to follow the rules, otherwise you’ll look like an amateur. Hopefully that was useful. If you have more questions on this particular topic, feel free to let me know in the comments. ———————————– If you have a question related to science fiction, fantasy, writing, or anything related, whether serious or silly, feel free to send it to arconna[at]yahoo[dot]com, leave it as a comment to this post (or any post), or send it as a twitter message to @shaunduke. If you liked this post, feel free to stumble it, digg it, or share it on Twitter or wherever! Thanks!
Reader Question: Video Game Plots and Successful Fantasy Novels
(This question is yet another whose questioner I forgot to write down. Please, if you asked this, let me know in the comments so you can get credit. My apologies for not putting your name in the post as I was working on it.) The full question was: Has there ever been a fantasy book series to pull off the “save the world by collecting a group of shiny things” plot, or is that an exclusive video game schtick? This is a tough one primarily because I have not read enough fantasy novels (as in non-graphic books) to be able to say yes or no with enough certainty to be completely comfortable. My guess is that there has yet to be a fantasy book series that uses a video game plot successfully. I could be wrong, but it seems like those sorts of plots are unfortunately the domain of more visually-based mediums (video games, TV shows, movies, graphic novels, etc.). You could, perhaps, count Harry Potter, which uses the last two books to hunt down what might be considered as “shiny things” (horcruxes are certainly not “shiny” in a traditional sense, but do hold significant value for the characters). Beyond this, however, I think it is safe to say that a treasure-hunting save-the-world plot is more comfortable in a visual medium. Why do I think this? Because these kinds of plots don’t always have strong connections to the characters by default, which means it makes a novelization rather difficult for the reader to connect to. That’s not to say it’s not possible, just that the stories I am familiar with intentionally place the viewer/player in the center, allowing them to forge their own connections to the world by actually doing the searching and world saving. Novels are, generally speaking, exterior products: the characters are other people (imaginary people, usually) and thus must act as intermediaries in some way for the reader (i.e. they have to be the connecting point to the world). And these plots do seem to suffer from a sort of ridiculous repetitiveness. So many video games and television shows essentially recycle the same basic plots and simply change the names and maps to make it seem different. They are still entertaining, but that’s not really the point. Getting to the point, I don’t think that video games own this plot, per se. Graphic novels are quite successful at using similar concepts, and really you wouldn’t need to go much farther than Dragonball or Dragonball Z (though their plots do wander quite a bit). Beyond this, though, I don’t feel like I know enough to make any logical, (partially) absolutist claims. I fell out of the gaming community at about the same time as I fell out of the graphic novel community, so I’ve missed quite a lot. If anyone reading this has any suggestions of either successful or at least interesting fantasy novels which have used the treasure-hunting/save-the-world plot, please leave them here in the comments. I’m curious to see what people identify with this style and whether there are books I’m forgetting. Thanks! —————————- If you have a question for me about science fiction, fantasy, writing, or something related, whether silly or serious, let me know by either leaving a comment here or anywhere, sending an email to arconna[at]yahoo[dot]com, or tweeting me your question to @shaunduke. If you enjoyed this post, feel free to stumble it, digg it, tweet it, or plug it on your blog!
Reader Question: Should Writers Have English Degrees?
(For some reason I did not write down the name of the person who asked this question, nor did I write down where it came from. So, if you asked this, please leave me a comment here letting me know so I can give you credit!) I think at one point people thought that they had to have a creative writing degree or something related in order to be a good writer. Perhaps a lot of people still think this. The reality is that there’s no reason that you have to get a degree to be a writer or to even be a successful one. While creative writing programs can be wonderful, they can also be terrible depending on what you write. Most of what you learn about writing comes not from taking a class, but from reading and doing. You can take every college course imaginable and there still will be no guarantee of you learning how to be a better writer, or that you will get published as a result. This isn’t to say that creative writing programs, or English programs, aren’t beneficial. You certainly can and probably will learn things from a creative writing class and professors of creative writing can help you develop your craft based on their experiences–the hope is, of course, that these professors have a significant publishing career behind them to add credibility to their advice. But the brutal truth is that having a B.A. in creative writing means diddly squat to most editors, and having one doesn’t automatically mean that you’re better than all those also trying to get published who don’t have such a degree. Creative writing programs tend to be a mixed bag. Some are fantastic, some not so much, but none of them can promise to churn out excellent writers–Iowa Writer’s Workshop does have an excellent track record, though, and that might be worth acknowledging if you’re interested in a degree. And then there is the fact that quite a lot of writers who are successful have no degrees whatsoever. Some have degrees not even related to the writing field at all–look at all the scientists who become science fiction writers, etc. Ultimately, it really doesn’t matter if you have a degree or not: you can be a writer either way. If you want a degree, however, get it because you want to have a career that isn’t necessarily based on something so obviously without guarantee. Creative writing degrees are good, but I’ve always seen them as being largely pointless unless you pursue them at the M.A. or PhD. levels. A B.A. in creative writing is essentially even more useless than a B.A. in literature or English–and let’s face it, a B.A. in almost anything is worth less than the cost of printing the certificate; this is the sad state of affairs in the education world. I’d recommend that those who want to eventually have writing careers should have a fallback plan. There is literally no guarantee that you will ever have a writing career, no matter how much work you put into it, no matter how you do it, whether it be traditionally publishing novels or short stories, or doing it on your own. Being conscious of that when pursuing advanced education will help you make an educated decision about your future. What are you willing to do for a career while you try to develop your fiction skills and get the publishing credits you need to reach that point where you can quit your day job? Thinking about that can certainly help ground your career goals. But let’s not leave it up to me. What do all my readers think about this? Leave a comment. ——————– 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!