Redshirts

Great review of John Scalzi’s Redshirts at Tor.com here.

“Redshirts is not merely a satire of the conventions of popular science fiction as a genre (although it is an excellent satire), it’s a harsh critique of waste. Why should we allow ourselves to be thrilled and horrified by the senseless deaths of fictional characters when we could be equally entertained by the stories that those characters carry within them?”

I’m looking forward to reading this. I’m sure it’s a little more high brow a commentary on the redshirt trope than the (still brilliant) one on Family Guy:

Captain Kirk: “All right, men. This is a dangerous mission. And it’s likely one of us will be killed. The landing party will consist of myself, Mr. Spock, Dr.McCoy…and Ensign Ricky.

Ensign Ricky: “Ah, crap.

To Epilogue or Not To Epilogue?

Just finished drafting the penultimate chapter of my novel. Now twenty-two down, and 88,000 words written. Only one chapter left!

Or so I thought. And then it occurred to me: ‘Hang on, this isn’t a chapter. It’s an epilogue.’

Then the second thing occurred to me: ‘But people hate epilogues. Don’t they?’ Read more…

Writing for the Head vs. the Heart

Another good read on Emma Darwin’s blog here.

It seems like every couple of months I’ll read some industry insider’s comment that the market for SF/F is decreasing, then another saying that it’s never been stronger. It’s hard to know what to expect when I do get to the point of actually pitching a manuscript – whether an SF thriller in today’s market can be said to ‘have a good chance’.

But I’m not sure it matters to me – as the article says, you need to write something that you care about, or it’ll be tough, and you’ll hate it, and even if you do finish it won’t end up with the kind of soul that you impart to something you love. I’m pretty sure I’ll only ever want to – or maybe even be able to – write science fiction. Where that will get me in future, who knows!

Downton Galactica? Battlestar Abbey? It’s all Culture and Character, Folks

Great article on Tor.com here.

This piece reminds me of one of the best pieces of advice for science fiction or fantasy writers that I’ve ever read. My sieve-like memory for detail doesn’t allow me to quote or even paraphrase the source, but the essence of it was that in the best SF/F the science or the fantasy isn’t the centre of the story. They’re the framework, the setting, and probably certain plot drivers, which surround the actual heart – the people and civilisations interacting, the personality and culture clashes which resonate with the reader because of their familiarity. 

Iain M. Banks is the master at this, in my opinion. His Culture novels – the name itself flagging up the key theme – are anthropological masterpieces, often based around one civilisation (the Culture) being far more technologically advanced than the other that they’re interacting with, and dealing with the political and sociological fallout of even the most benevolent interventions. We can all recognise the parallels in that, I think.

“This has all happened before, it will all happen again” indeed.

The Dreaded Edit

I’m nearing the finish line for the first draft of my WIP – just two chapters left to write. Eight scenes, eight or nine thousand words. Should be done sometime next week. And then . . .

The dreaded edit. Now, seeing as how this is my first novel, I’ve not been through the editing process before. A lot of writers I’ve read on the subject seem to treat it as a necessary evil – but evil nonetheless. Read more…

Link Dump: Advice

More solid advice.

Futurescapes

Just got home from my buddy Jeff’s place. Driving back, I was struck by the same feeling I get every time I’m in a car in São Paulo. The narrowness of most streets, the height of the buildings that line them, looming fifteen, twenty storeys high in concrete and steel and glass.

This isn’t a pretty city. Booming, thriving, vibrant, alive, a powerhouse fuelling one of the strongest economic booms of this century so far – but not pretty.

And every time I drive these streets and look out of the cab window, catching a glimpse of sky every ten seconds or so through a gap between two towers, my thoughts turn to those future cities of my imagination, those cityscapes where fifty storey scrapers are the norm, where a population boom crams tens of thousands into a hundred square yards.The ugly and beautiful, dystopia or utopia, but all squeezed together cheek by jowl and reaching for all the stars above all the worlds that we’ll have conquered.

My futurescapes.