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.
Pointless Plot Elements, Convenience, and Fantasy
I was reading something the other day and one of the things that I disliked about it was how the author had gone about plotting his or her novel. Each element to the plot (each action and reaction) seemed too convenient, as if the author had intentionally done those things just so he or she would have an excuse to put two characters together by chapter four. While this may occur quite often in fantasy or any sort of fiction with a discernible plot, what bothered me the most was how obvious the story was about its convenience. This seems like a problem that is very common in fantasy (and, to a lesser extent, science fiction). Too many writers seem to rely on convenience rather than logic or intelligent plotting. For the record, I do not profess to be an expert on how to plot, but am speaking here primarily as a reader; and, as a writer, it is making me very aware of my own novels and stories, so much so that I have started to wonder whether or not there are elements of convenience in my own work (there are). I can’t say I know how to deal with such issues, but it seems to me that the reasonable thing to do is to avoid moments where it is obvious that you are plotting by convenience. If you say “Oh, well if I just do this, then I can put these characters together, and then everything I want to do can be done,” then it seems to me that you’re dealing with convenience. Worst yet, it makes no sense to a reader why you wouldn’t just put those characters together in the first place if you wanted them there anyway. There are factors that make all this obvious; rapidity is one of them. The quicker you try to make your plot happen, the more clear it is to the reader that that is what you are trying to do. The nasty critical side of me wants to point out that this is amateurish; I’ve done it, and where I see it I know that I have done something terrible. Having said all of this, I have no advice whatsoever on how to avoid it. Like I said, I still do it from time to time. The only thing I can think to do is to ask yourself at every plot turn if you’re using convenience rather than logic. If you are, then you probably should think of something else. If you know that someone is going to say “this is terribly convenient,” then it doesn’t make sense to continue going in that direction. But, I want your opinions on this. How many of you have experience this either in your reading or your writing? Let me know in the comments!
Out of Body Experiences…With Characters?
I had the most bizarre experience the other day. While doing homework I found myself suddenly speaking as one of the characters in a new project I’ve been working on. I started walking around the house, talking as though I was telling the story, albeit rather quietly. Then, it stopped. There must have been five minutes of this, and when I tried to write it all down, I found that I couldn’t, as if that part of me had simply been shut off. I’ve never had that happen to me. I don’t know if I’m insane or simply so fascinated by this character than talking as though I am that character is simply the way of the game. So, to determine whether my sanity has been compromised, I’d like to ask all of you whether you’ve ever had this kind of experience. Let me know in the comments! You can also tell me I’m nuts and should seek medical attention, if you so desire.
World Building: Thoughts and Practices
World building is one of those things you have to do, even if you don’t want to. Whether you write fantasy, science fiction, or something else entirely, you’ll always find yourself attempting to build your world, whether at the micro or macro levels. Creating characters is a form of world building, and if all you do is create unique characters for your novels, then you are as much a part of the process as someone who builds entire worlds (they just have to spend more time creating things from scratch, while you, perhaps, can sit around in the comfort of the world you know). I’ve often approached world building from a relatively minimalist position. While I enjoy fantasy worlds with richly developed worlds, sometimes such things can get in the way and what should be a riveting novel can turn into a foray into the author’s world building practices. Nobody wants that. Tolkien, for all his brilliance in creating the most fully-realized fantasy world in the history of the genre, was occupied by unfortunate flaws in style and character development, some of which were a product of the times. I prefer to keep things localized. Whether it is the most efficient method, I don’t know, but it seems to work well enough for me. I don’t occupy myself with excessive amounts of ancient history, because, as much as that might be interesting, it is not relevant to whatever story I am writing at that moment. When I build worlds, I start with names and general ideas, work my way to a map, and then go wild until I feel that I know enough about the world to be able to write in it. Sometimes it works well, depending on how interested I am in a particular world, and sometimes it doesn’t. But when it works, it really works. I have three fantasy worlds that I developed this way (Traea, the world in which The World in the Satin Bag is set, a world where I’ve set many of my “quirky” fantasy stories, and the Mundoscurad, the most recent, in which The Watchtower is set. There are an absurd amount of different methods for world building, from genre specific to author specific. Writers of all genres, particularly newer writers, are always looking for the “best way,” not realizing that the “best way” is really non-existent. Reality dictates that what might work for some, may not work for you, and vice versa. Ken McConnell, for example, said via his Twitter that, “sometimes it’s the little things, like word choice that can set the tone and enrich your world building.” So what do you do when it comes to world building? How do you find the right method for you? Trial and error. Not the answer you were looking for, were you? Tough. So much of writing involves trying something to see if it works for you. If it doesn’t, you drop it and try something else. Trial and error is a writer’s third or fourth, or maybe tenth, best friend (no doubt writers have a lot of best friends). But that’s neither here nor there. I want to hear about your world building methods. How do you approach creating new worlds? What works for you?
Writing Weaknesses: Do You Know Yours?
Nobody is perfect. That’s one of those golden rules when it comes to personalities and professions. Everyone makes mistakes, sometimes trivial and sometimes terrible. As a writer, it can be difficult to see where your weaknesses are. Anyone who writes is intimately connected to his or her work, and maintaining separation can sometimes be nearly impossible. Few, if any, writers get it right on the first draft, and those that do are flukes rather than logical exceptions. The rest of us–call us “normies,” if you will–have to learn from our mistakes and try to see where we are weak in order to improve our craft. But do you know your weaknesses? If so, how do you approach resolving them? Do you take care of it after the first draft, or do you try to fix the issue as it is happening? Personally, I have issues with characterization. Often I place too much focus on the ideas and not enough on establishing a connection to the character (for the reader). I know I do this every single time, and my problem seems to be that when I try to fix it as it occurs, my characterization feels forced or I simply lose interest. I’m working on resolving this, because I want my stories to have more impact for readers beyond the “gosh wow” effect. I have other weaknesses, but right now that seems to be the primary and most pressing one. I’m not sure how to fix it at this point. A lot of the exercises I’ve found for creating better characters seem to require you to think up useless facts about your characters. I prefer not to think of my characters as bundles of uselessness. They have purposes, desires, interests, etc., and I prefer fiction that highlights those things that are important to the story as a whole. Maybe that’s my problem. Knowing your weaknesses is important, though, because acknowledging where you need to work the most can help drive you forward as a writer, even if that movement is one plodding, sluggish step at a time. What are your weaknesses and how do you deal with them? Let me know in the comments!
Random, But Useful Advice For Writing Essays
Cite your sources correctly from the start. Having recently gone through the experience of digging up the correct sources and fixing all my slightly-off citations, I can tell you that doing it right the first time is a time saver, especially if you don’t return to the essay in question until some many months later, long after you’ve forgotten where the original source was located. It would seem like obvious advice, but if you’re a college student, this issue may come up later when you try to publish one of your essays. You see, college students often end up with these things called “readers,” which are essentially enormous printed tomes of information usually created by the college for a specific course. They are not books you buy on Amazon, or even books you can return. You’re stuck with them. And sometimes the readers don’t contain the proper citation information for the articles they contain. That means you have to go hunt that information down yourself. Doing so can take a bit of time, but at least during school you can ask your professor where he or she got a particularly article, in person, and get a response ASAP. Doing it later means having to spend hours surfing Google to find obscure information about equally obscure articles. It’s not fun, especially when you wanted to get that essay out the door the day before. Then you have the issue of proper citation practices. How do you format footnote citations? Well, you have to read, because if you follow the citation formats you see in articles, they are often incorrect or outdated. Maybe that’s not a problem for some publications, but the more academic ones, or even the exceptionally professional ones, want proper citations, not just for them, but for the peer review panels that govern what gets published. I spent close to ten hours fixing all my citations and reformatting two essays to submit to an online magazine. Only a few hours of that should have been spent formatting (since they had specific guidelines), and none to the citations. But, I didn’t foresee publishing things, or I didn’t think about the citations at the time, and subsequently had to go through every inch of my essays to get them in working order. Fun? No. Not at all. So, cite your sources correctly from the start. It’ll make your life easier.