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Greg Bear’s 28th novel, the near-future thriller Darwin’s Children, is a direct sequel to his Darwin’s Radio (1999), although familiarity with the prequel is not necessary to enjoy the ride offered here.

Ten years have passed since a new human virus produced a generation of children markedly different from their parents. The new children can communicate using freckle-like marks on their faces, and they’re developing a new language and perhaps even new ways of living. Most of the new children have been taken from their families and placed in government schools. Some of these schools have been contracted out to private companies with more experience guarding prisoners than children. The schools have quickly become more akin to concentration camps, and as the children approach puberty, the government becomes afraid that another virus may be unleashed on the public. All remaining new children are ordered imprisoned. When the second virus appears, however, it is a defensive virus released by adult humans that kills 20 percent of the new children.

Bear explains viruses and all the science in the book in clear, comprehensible language that makes for fascinating reading. Despite the global nature of the virus, Bear focuses on the extreme and fearful reaction by the government, parents and the people of the U.S. One surprise in the novel occurs when two characters encounter something they think of as God. It is a presence that envelops them in feelings of acceptance and love but, frustratingly, neither can control any aspect of it. Where Bear is going with this will have to wait for a future novel.

Bear has become one of science fiction’s most consistent producers of thrills and chills, and with Darwin’s Children his strong imagination and writing skills come together in a combination that has all the hallmarks of future bestsellerdom. Gavin J. Grant is a freelance writer and reviewer in Northampton, Massachusetts.

Greg Bear's 28th novel, the near-future thriller Darwin's Children, is a direct sequel to his Darwin's Radio (1999), although familiarity with the prequel is not necessary to enjoy the ride offered here.

Ten years have passed since a new human virus produced a…
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In The Wellstone, a freestanding follow-up to his acclaimed novel The Collapsium, writer and real-life rocket scientist Wil McCarthy considers post-scarcity economies, leadership politics and immortality, all in an adventure novel that would have made Robert A. Heinlein proud.

Prince Bascal Edward de Towaji Lutui is the teenage heir to the Queendom of Sol, but, due to his parents’ immortality, he will never inherit it. He is, of course, a polymath genius (his pre-teen poetry is scattered throughout the book), and he is deeply dissatisfied with his lot in life. Sent to summer camp, he foments revolution. The prince’s two main collaborators are smart but impulsive Conrad Mursk and Xiomara (known as Xmary), a “fax” copy of a girl.

In this high-tech Queendom, a fax can reproduce not only material objects, but living creatures as well. Another important new invention is wellstone, a kind of programmable matter that can mimic almost any substance. The fax and wellstone technology is well thought out and described. Additionally, an appendix describes the “Fax Wars,” in which McCarthy explores the (sometimes hilarious) ramifications of replicating devices being made widely available. Despite a wealth of competition from other characters, Conrad is the most interesting person here. Bascal’s breakout forces Conrad to consider not just his actions, but also their possible consequences. Watching him come to life as an adult, realizing and working around his own faults not to mention the difficulties thrown in the revolutionaries’ path is a treat worth the price of the book. Gavin J. Grant writes from Northampton, Massachusetts.

In The Wellstone, a freestanding follow-up to his acclaimed novel The Collapsium, writer and real-life rocket scientist Wil McCarthy considers post-scarcity economies, leadership politics and immortality, all in an adventure novel that would have made Robert A. Heinlein proud.

Prince Bascal Edward de…
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The story of This Is Not a Game is driven by a force located at the nexus between commercial marketing and geek culture: the alternate reality game, or ARG. Though the book is set in the near future, ARGs are being planned and played right now: these are the massive and complexly plotted entertainments that have driven millions to hunt for clues on hidden websites, deliver packages to secret locations and call studios where live actors impersonate characters from a carefully crafted fiction.

The novel follows Dagmar Shaw, an architect of such games. In her role as “puppetmaster” she has cunningly led players through countless twists and revelations by carefully weaving elements of her dangerous virtual worlds into our own. But the real world has turned suddenly dangerous for her: stranded in Jakarta during a collapse of the national economy, she watches helplessly as riots tear the city apart.

When Dagmar—with assistance from her friends and associates at the Great Big Idea company—alters her game in an attempt to summon the aid of its players, the novel takes on fascinating new dimensions and becomes a genuine page-turner. Spurred into action, the group mind of a million and more gamers eagerly applies its problem-solving skills to the real-life crisis.

But getting Dagmar out of Jakarta is only the beginning. Back in Los Angeles, another member of the company (and one of Dagmar’s oldest friends) is gunned down in the parking lot by an assassin. The Russian mafia may be involved, and there are hints of an international finance conspiracy. Soon Dagmar is tracking down the killer while trying to keep the game going, even as outside influences alter the rules of her own creation.

Walter Jon Williams begins with a knowing and sympathetic grasp of gamer culture, and proceeds through schemes and stratagems with a good deal of gamesmanship himself. This Is Not a Game is a tale every bit as engaging as one of the intrigues its characters might have dreamed up.

Jedediah Berry is the author of a novel, The Manual of Detection.

The story of This Is Not a Game is driven by a force located at the nexus between commercial marketing and geek culture: the alternate reality game, or ARG. Though the book is set in the near future, ARGs are being planned and played right…

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<B>Liz Williams’ daring brew</B> British writer Liz Williams’ first novel, <I>The Ghost Sister</I>, was a finalist for the Philip K. Dick Award for science fiction; this, her third effort, should assist her in climbing up the ladder to bestsellerdom.

Two strands of story intertwine in unexpected ways in <B>The Poison Master</B>. Williams mixes alternate history, science fiction and gothic romance to produce an entertaining supposition on what might have been had the principles of 16th century alchemy been followed through to produce interplanetary travel.

Alivet Dee is an alchemist on the planet Latent Emanation, where humans are the slaves of the Lords of Night. Alivet lives in Levanah, but cannot afford the delights the city offers, since she is saving to buy ("unbond") her sister back from the Lords of Night. She is taken aback, one night, when on a perfectly standard job introducing an ex-nun to drugs all drugs being legal on Latent Emanation the woman has a bad reaction and dies. Knowing that justice at the hands of the Lords of Night is at best arbitrary, Alivet flees and runs into the mysterious Poison Master, an off-worlder who appears to have been following her. The Poison Master offers her the means of escape and Alivet, in fear for her life, decides to join him.

Meanwhile, 16th century English alchemist John Dee is experimenting with mechanical beasts and spending his time traveling between European courts for two reasons: to save his skin from narrow-minded religious leaders and to find new patrons for his work. Dee is convinced he has found a way to travel to a new world and, like the pilgrims setting out for what will be the USA, wants to build a free and peaceful society.

Blending genres can annoy readers who know what they want romance or science fiction, alternate history or fantasy but it also gives writers the alchemical opportunity to fuse ideas and modes of expression and see what new things they can create. Although the way the two story strands are brought together in <B>The Poison Master</B> is slightly unsatisfying, the chances Williams has taken here and her confident handling of a wide range of material promises much for her future novels. <I>Gavin J. Grant has just moved to an old farmhouse in western Massachusetts, which he expects to be renovating for the foreseeable future.</I>

<B>Liz Williams' daring brew</B> British writer Liz Williams' first novel, <I>The Ghost Sister</I>, was a finalist for the Philip K. Dick Award for science fiction; this, her third effort, should assist her in climbing up the ladder to bestsellerdom.

Two strands of story…

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Much has been made of cyberpunk godfather William Gibson’s transition from the dystopic future of Mona Lisa Overdrive and Virtual Light to the contemporary setting of his recent novels. Starting with 2003’s Pattern Recognition and continuing in 2007’s Spook Country, Gibson abandoned the world of Molly Millions and Wintermute for present-day cool finders, benzo addicts and ex-CIA agents. The result? A world no less fascinating and characters no less intriguing.

In Zero History, the third novel of Gibson’s Bigend trilogy, a few years have passed since Hollis Henry last worked for the Belgian marketing mastermind Hubertus Bigend, a relationship she is eager to avoid re-establishing. But as happens with most who find themselves subject to the gravity of Bigend’s attention, Henry is quickly pulled back in as she searches for the reclusive maker of Gabriel Hounds, an anti-brand of denim apparel. She is joined in her search by her fellow Spook Country alum, Milgrim, an ex-drug addict (the “ex” thanks to Bigend) who is slowly rediscovering the person paved over by all the years of addiction.

Gibson is, as always, a meticulous world builder—every piece of clothing and décor comes with a detailed provenance, and even the most mundane material “actor” in a scene is described with exacting specificity. That taxi hailed on page one? “Pearlescent silver, this one. Glyphed in Prussian blue […] a smoother simulacrum of its black ancestors, its faux-leather upholstery a shade of orthopedic fawn.”

The relentless attention to detail could easily stop a reader in his or her tracks, yet somehow, it doesn’t—plot, pace and people keep the pages turning. (Though I did keep a pen nearby, building a list of the many references that escaped me for a later Wiki binge.)

Zero History sees the welcome return of most of the cast from Spook Country (and not a few of those from Pattern Recognition). This cast is an immediate and sustained strength of the novel—not necessarily because a reader need know them already, but because, like any good world builder, Gibson is allowing the potential of his characters to be realized. While such character-based brand recognition is found most easily in anti-hero Hubertus Bigend, described by Gibson in one interview as “a cross between Marshall McLuhan and a Bond villain,” it’s also evident in Milgrim, whose growth provides moments of unexpected poignancy.

Gibson’s latest novel may be set in the present, but the author’s eye for the “impending new” is no less keen, and one leaves Zero History with the feeling that Gibson has not turned his eye away from the future—the future has just moved much, much closer to us.

Much has been made of cyberpunk godfather William Gibson’s transition from the dystopic future of Mona Lisa Overdrive and Virtual Light to the contemporary setting of his recent novels. Starting with 2003’s Pattern Recognition and continuing in 2007’s Spook Country, Gibson abandoned the world of…

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William Gibson, the influential science fiction author who coined the term “cyberspace” and created the character Johnny Mnemonic, has moved closer in his recent work to writing about the present day. In Gibson’s eagerly awaited new novel, Pattern Recognition, the present collides with the future in a world where corporations are pushing their brand messages ever-deeper into everyday life.

In this uncomfortably familiar world, a young woman named Cayce Pollard possesses a sixth sense regarding logos and advertising; she can tell whether symbols or words in ads will be successful. The flip side of this talent is her hypersensitivity to branding a display of Tommy Hilfiger clothes can send her reeling.

Pollard is working for an ultra-hip ad agency in London when a Belgian tycoon, Hubertus Bigend, offers her a job. Her prior knowledge of Bigend warns her away, but the combination of his charisma and her curiosity is irresistible, and she is soon on her way to Tokyo. She has been hired to find the origins of “the footage” a film being anonymously uploaded to the Internet a few seconds at a time. Pollard is already a “footagehead,” one of thousands of people keeping track of the developing story and arguing over the film’s origins.

Pattern Recognition takes place one year after the events of September 11, 2001, and the terrorist attacks are part of the context of Pollard’s life. Her father who was not supposed to be near the World Trade Center that morning disappeared on September 11, and his body was never found. His probable death and Pollard’s response let us ponder the attacks, consider our own reactions and see the events in relation to the rest of the world.

In Pattern Recognition, Gibson puts his visionary focus on the impact of the interconnected global economy and reveals how the constant pressure to consume chips away at our sense of self. With spare prose and an intriguing plot, Gibson’s novel offers a powerful warning about the dangers that lurk in a society where human beings are seen as nothing more than a collection of marketing behaviors. Gavin J. Grant runs an independent small press in Northampton, Massachusetts.

William Gibson, the influential science fiction author who coined the term "cyberspace" and created the character Johnny Mnemonic, has moved closer in his recent work to writing about the present day. In Gibson's eagerly awaited new novel, Pattern Recognition, the present collides with the future…
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In The Rise of Endymion, Dan Simmons brings the epic tale of his Hyperion universe to its powerful conclusion. Spanning four novels and many centuries of real and imagined galactic history, the Hyperion saga is an astonishing achievement, overbrimming with adventure, lyricism and insight. A miracle of invention and economy, played out on a dozen and more meticulously created worlds, the tetralogy is surely one of science fiction's grandest visions of humanity's shared fate with its technology — not least because of the unforgettable character of Aenea, the young girl (and later, woman) in whose hands lies the future of humankind.

Simmons will return to his Hyperion universe once more in an upcoming novella, part of a set of stories by a select group of science fiction authors who have been asked to revisit their now-classic worlds just one more time. ("If only Herbert and Asimov were still with us," says Simmons, wistfully.) But for now, with the culmination of the preceding novels Hyperion, The Fall of Hyperion and Endymion (all Bantam paperbacks) in the current volume, Dan Simmons takes time out to introduce the entire series to new readers and to share some thoughts with his avid fans about The Rise of Endymion.

BookPage: The universe of your four-novel epic is so vast and so fully realized. What was its genesis?
Dan Simmons: It started 25 years ago, when I was teaching elementary school in a small town in Missouri. I first created the Hyperion universe for my students during storytelling hour, little by little, day after day. Later, I incorporated that experience into my story, "The Death of The Centaur" (from Prayers to Broken Stones, Bantam paperback).

BP: There is a deep strain of great literature running through the four novels. It's not hard to recognize the models for many of the things you write: The Canterbury Tales, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn and of course, John Keats' poetry. Is it important to you that your readers make those connections? Would you like your books to send readers back to those sources?
DS: I think the readers who know that literature can enjoy pursuing those references, and that can deepen their Hyperion experience — it certainly did for me. But it's not just a game of finding literary references. In fact, when I first started writing Hyperion, I knew I'd have to deal with Keats' long poems, "Hyperion" and "The Fall of Hyperion." I really appreciated his theme of life evolving from one race of gods to another, with one power having to give way to another, as Hyperion must. But I think, and hope, that the novels can be understood and enjoyed as science fiction, on their own terms.

BP: Well, it works nicely on both levels when John Keats' persona appears as a "cybrid" artificial life form in the story!
DS: Yes, that was the idea.

BP: As I understand it, there are three mighty powers which become unleashed throughout the four novels, and which vie together and apart for the soul of humanity: the first is the church, the second is artificial intelligence and I'm not sure what to call the third — maybe the basic human freedom to choose one's own fate?
DS: That's a good way of putting it.

BP: Let's focus on the first two for the moment: do the futures which you envision for religion and technology in these books reflect a conviction on your part about where those forces are headed? Are they prophecy of a sort?
DS: No, I don't believe in prophecy. They're a story, a development of ideas. I'm very interested in the evolution of technology, and it's really the idea of artificial life which intrigues me, more than just intelligence — a new, evolving life form arising within our datasphere and coming into living relation with humanity (this is where Keats' theme resonates). As for the depiction of the Catholic church, it's not meant to be a prediction. It's really about what happens whenever religion and power go hand in hand. I'm not anti-church by any means; what interests me is that human beings are almost always corrupted by the control they wield over other human beings. That situation has been especially tragic for religions.

BP: I have a question specifically about the current book, The Rise of Endymion, coming out this month. To me, it's a love story more than anything —
DS: Oh, I'm glad to hear you say that.
BP: — between Aenea and Raul Endymion. It's a love story against all odds, even against death and time. "Love is a fundamental force in the universe," says Aenea over and over again. That's what she calls "the music of the spheres." How do you hear this music?
DS: Well, I think all the simple things can and do still work — holding your child's hand while walking across the street will do it. But we can hardly hear it for all the noise which has turned love into a cliche, and most people can't even hear John Lennon's "All You Need Is Love" anymore without wincing.

BP: I know what you mean. It's too bad. I teach a Beatles course at Vanderbilt and we go dangerously into that hokey territory.
DS: Well, I write that way.

BP: Well, I feel that way. And I don't know how to express my gratitude to you. I feel like I'm speaking for countless fans here. You have enriched that feeling for us beyond calculation, and way beyond "hokey-ness." It's more like holiness. It's wholeness, certainly.
DS: Thank you. It's very kind of you to say that.
BP: Thank you for creating so generously and so well.

Michael Alec Rose is a professor of music at Vanderbilt University.

In The Rise of Endymion, Dan Simmons brings the epic tale of his Hyperion universe to its powerful conclusion. Spanning four novels and many centuries of real and imagined galactic history, the Hyperion saga is an astonishing achievement, overbrimming with adventure, lyricism and insight. A…

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Canadian writer Sylvain Neuvel makes a thrilling debut with Sleeping Giants, a gripping sci-fi adventure that is innovative both in plot and structure. It all begins when a young girl stumbles (literally) into the archaeological find of the century: an enormous robotic hand created by an ancient alien race.

Fast-forward some 25 years, and that girl is now a scientist in charge of a military-run operation to find and retrieve other parts of that robot, which could be the greatest weapon the world has ever seen. Told in journal entries of the various characters as well as their interviews with a mysterious man who works as a go-between for the project and the government higher-ups, Sleeping Giants is an imaginative tour de force that will appeal to science fiction and mystery fans alike. 

How did the story first come to you: was it that image of the giant hand, an idea about the plot, a particular character, or something else?
The idea for the book came while watching Japanese anime about a giant robot. I asked my son if he’d like a toy robot but he wanted to know everything about it before I built it. We were watching "Grendizer" together and I started thinking about what it would be like if we found some giant alien artifact in real life. That got me started, but I tend to picture things before I write them. I need a strong visual to get me going. For this book, it was the little girl in the giant metal hand. 

How did you arrive at the format for the book (a combination of interview transcripts, news briefs and journal entries)? Did you try other approaches first?
Not really. I knew it was going to be epistolary from the start. That said, I couldn’t find the right way to do it at first. I wanted to switch perspective between chapters, but I thought they would feel somewhat disconnected. I needed something to hold everything together, a common thread. That’s when I got the idea for the interviewer. Once I figured him out, everything else fell into place.

Was it difficult to figure out the structure—which moments to show and what to skip over?
Yes. I wrote the prologue first. Then I structured the whole book. That took a while. I’d picture a scene in my head, then I’d figure out the best way to present it. Do I show it as a future plan, while it’s happening, or do I deal with the consequences before I let the reader know what really happened? Who gets to talk about it? The one who is most affected by the situation or the one with more knowledge about the facts? Can I create more anticipation if I change the time or the point of view? Sometimes, the best thing to do is to skip that moment completely and let the readers figure it out on their own. 

Reading the book, it’s hard not to “cast” the characters. For instance, I kept seeing the interviewer as Victor Garber, who plays Sydney Bristow’s dad on “Alias.” The evolution of his sympathies through the book was really interesting. Did you have a particular model or type in mind for that character?
I love the interviewer. I wouldn’t object to your casting, but I couldn’t really see his face when I wrote the book. He was all about the voice for me. Now, if I were making the movie, I’d probably go for Idris Elba, or Ray Stevenson, the way he looked in "Dexter," season 7.

"Would such a discovery bring humanity together, or would we wage wars over it?"

Do you find it scary or comforting to imagine a race of super-advanced aliens out there keeping an eye on us?
I think the most interesting question is how we’d deal with that knowledge. Would such a discovery bring humanity together, or would we wage wars over it? Fear of the other is a frequent theme in the news these days and I think it begs the question as to how we’d deal with a different species. I’m much more scared of us than I am of them. 

What books or movies do you see as having influenced Sleeping Giants?
I wanted this story to be about us. Close Encounters of the Third Kind is probably the closest thing to what I was aiming for. Here’s a movie about an alien encounter and we’re watching a guy sculpting mashed potatoes and wrecking his backyard. I loved that. Contact is also similar in spirit to Sleeping Giants. The book is also part political thriller. I see a lot of The Hunt for Red October in there as well. 

Did you learn anything while researching the book that surprised you?
I learned a whole lot of interesting things researching that book. The science was all new to me, so was everything military. What surprised me the most was probably how many websites are dedicated to gathering evidence of secret government bases. I was looking for one plausible site to build one. I ended up with dozens to choose from. The time and energy that went into many of these websites is absolutely fascinating. 

You have a PhD in linguistics—what originally interested you about that area? What effect do you think this background has had on your writing?
I dropped out of high school when I was 15. When I went back to school for a B.A., linguistics seemed like a good idea, a way to combine my passion for language and science. I’m not sure what kind of influence my linguistics background has on my writing. I understand the mechanics behind some of the humor, for example, but I don’t know if I would have done the same thing without that knowledge. There’s a linguist on the team, though, and chances are he’ll have to work a bit throughout the series. 

What do you like to read for fun?
These days, I’m looking for quick reads. I like books with science in them, but I’ll try just about anything if it looks interesting. Favorite one I read lately: The Flicker Men by Ted Kosmatka. That book is so good. I wish I had more time. I don’t read nearly as much as I’d like to, and I buy books way faster then I go through them. I think it was Stephen King who said: “If you don’t have time to read, you don’t have time to write.” To that, I’d like to add time to exercise, fix the house, build robots . . .  

I’ve read that you like to build toys and small robots for your son—are there any that you’re especially proud of?
I do. I like to make physical objects. I work on a computer all day, then I go home and I write on the computer. I like to build things. I haven’t in the past couple years, but I usually spend six or seven months making my Halloween costume in my spare time. I built a robot from my book for my son. It looks good, but it’s not really playable. The idea was cool: it comes in pieces that are held together with magnets, but it keeps falling apart. I’m shopping for a 3D printer so I can build him a better one. I made him a spaceship bed, inspired by the Raptors in “Battlestar Galactica,” with a cannon, a joystick, some buttons. He really likes it. I do too. [photo at right]

Sleeping Giants is Book 1 of the Themis Files; can you talk a little about what we can look forward to in the sequel(s)? Anything else you’re excited about working on right now?
I don’t want to spoil anything, but I can tell you that the stakes are even higher in book two. There are some questions being answered, some new ones being asked. There will be at least three in the Themis Files. I’m having a blast in that universe, and I love the people who live in it. I can’t wait to share. 

 

RELATED CONTENT: Read our review of Sleeping Giants.

 

Author photo by James Andrew Rosen.

Canadian writer Sylvain Neuvel makes a thrilling debut with Sleeping Giants, a gripping sci-fi adventure that is innovative both in plot and structure.
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Just prior to The Forgetting book launch event at Parnassus Books in Nashville, we spoke with author Sharon Cameron about her thrilling new sci-fi adventure, its questions of memory and truth, and what it’s like to belong somewhere you never expected.

First of all, I have to say that I loved this book and am still thinking about it. And I felt like my writer’s review sounded like he was thinking about it long after finishing the book as well.
I personally love books that make me think, so I naturally gravitate toward writing a book like that, one that’s going to make someone think and make me think. I had a really funny review on Goodreads, where someone had given me a five-star review that said, “This book really made me think, and I liked it anyway.” I was like, “Yes!”

Amazing. Reluctant thinking. You’re going to sit down, think about it, and you’re going to like it.
That’s right. (laughing)

What was your inspiration for The Forgetting?
There’s not one [inspiration], but I think the main one is that I do think a lot about the past. History is absolutely my thing. I am very into genealogy and heritage, and that’s how I started writing. I wrote my very first novel about the family history that I had been researching. I love getting into the basement of a courthouse, and all the dusty records—all that stuff makes me really happy.

I think the past is something I have spent a lot of time thinking about, not only what is different about the past but what’s the same, and what links us to the past. It occurred to me at some point that what really links us to the past is memory, and there’s so much we’ve forgotten. There was so much in my family history that were incredible stories that had been completely forgotten. It’s almost like that erases it out of existence until you know it again. . . . When I was thinking about all the things that the world had forgotten, it made me think about people who have actually really forgotten everything, and how much of our identity is wrapped up in those memories, and how much of our experience makes us who we are, and remembering those experiences makes us who we are. That’s where it blossomed out from, and I started thinking, what would a group of people do if they did not have their identity, if they had no history, if they were going to lose it again?

This makes me think of an interview with Billy Collins we just did—it’ll be in the October issue of BookPage—where he talks about humans’ ability to dwell in the past, how we find pleasure in nostalgia. It’s OK to indulge in our memories sometimes.
I don’t think you have to be defined by them, either. I think it’s great to know and understand what those things are, but you don’t have to be defined by them.

When you’re reading The Forgetting, it’s inevitable that you consider your own potential loss of memories. It’s what I was thinking about the whole time while reading it. In the vein of, if your house is on fire and you have one suitcase to take with you, if you faced the Forgetting, what would be your suitcase of memories if you were allowed to choose what not to lose?
That is such a hard question, because how can you choose? (laughs) I’m going to think beyond the obvious, which is your family and your emotional ties. That was something with the book that I gave a lot of thought to, how much of our emotions are tied up in our memories. If those are gone, a lot of those emotional ties are cut. Whether they would be there or not be there in some deep way was a question that I explored. So I’m going to skip over all of that, because that’s obvious. You don’t want the trauma of losing your emotional ties.

I would not want to forget the first time I read The Lord of the Rings. I would never want to forget that! That was so magical to me, and that was a real eye-opening experience. I was probably 11 when I read that and already a reader, but I think that book really showed me how you can be transported and how your imagination can take you to a whole other place. I would not give up that experience. Actually, I keep trying to relive it by rereading it. (laughs)

I would not give up a lot of what I know about my heritage. I would not give up knowing where I came from, the good parts and the bad parts.

I would not want to give up my first trip to Scotland. I think Scotland is probably my spiritual home and I love it there very, very much. It was almost, I felt very connected to that place in a really deep way. I would not give up my memories of that, I don’t think.

I think those are some good ones, right?

This is completely off-topic, but I’m fascinated by the idea of places where you “have” to go, places that you call your “spiritual home,” like Scotland for you. I was just talking to a painter whose “place” was Uganda, and she keeps going back there. What do you think that is? Where do you think that comes from, that draw to a certain place?
I think it’s DNA, personally. I think that there’s a lot—and I don’t want to say too much because I’m writing another book about this—I think there’s a lot that we remember almost chemically, through our DNA. There’s been a lot of research on this lately, and a lot of stories have been coming out about how memories can be passed down. That’s what instinct is, that’s why we have phobias of certain things. We’re naturally afraid of a spider—these are memories that are being chemically passed down through your DNA. I think there can be a place memory. I really do. I just think it must be true. There’s some place memory where you are drawn. . . .

I tend to be a very logical, practical person, and I don’t know how that’s true, but I still believe it. I had the experience of stepping onto a piece of ground and just feeling like my feet sank a foot into the soil. I felt like roots grew. This is my spot. It was very strange, and it was the whole reason I started writing my first book, which was about Scotland and isn’t published.

Do you think it ever will be?
Yeah, I do. And I’m so glad, actually, that it’s not published. I was still learning then and I had no ambitions to be a writer at that time. I was learning at that point, but that story is so meaningful to me, and I can do it so much better now. I got an agent based on that book. It’s how I completely started, but we ended up going another direction first. I’ll go back to it.

Actually, my husband did DNA tests—there’s all kinds of Scottish surname projects where people connect through DNA—and he actually turned out to be directly descended from all the characters in my book. It was crazy. . . . I feel like I was meant to to do it, even though I didn’t know for many years.

Going back to The Forgetting, you’re toying with the notion of truth, how what you believe to be the truth can be twisted as much as memory. What do you hope young readers will take away from the book?
Your truth really can’t be twisted. It is what it is. That doesn’t mean that a person can’t develop and change and reinterpret their life. It doesn’t mean, again, that you have to be define by those things. But I think [it’s necessary to accept] things that are just true about yourself: These are my faults, these are the things I’m good at, this is where I came from, this is where I didn’t come from. I think happy people are the ones who have made peace with those truths and acknowledged them, and learned to use them and live with them.

What do you most enjoy about creating new worlds like this one for adults?
My other books have been very historically based. I really like that because I’m a history person, and I love the groundedness of that, of being able to go, “Yes! People acted like that.” But this book was much more of a branching out for me. It could really be anything, and I was very surprised at how freeing that was, that I could really make anything be that I wanted to be. If the sun didn’t need to set for 80 days, it could be 80. If I needed the sun to set in 70 days, it could be 70. I could really make it be what I wanted it to be, and that was actually really fun. It gave me lots of scope.

Do you think you’ll continue with this style?
I don’t think I’ve ever done anything that’s completely the same, yet. I would never say that I’m not going to do something. I like not being limited.

The book that I’m writing right now is a companion to The Forgetting. It’s not a sequel, but it’s the same world, different time period, different characters, sort of opposite questions.

What’s something your readers might be surprised to know about your writing process?
I’ll tell you what I was most surprised to discover about my writing process, and that is that I never know what I’m doing. (laughs) I never have the feeling that I actually know what I’m doing or anything that I’m writing is any good. When I first started to write, I viewed published authors—and I’m sure other people feel this exact same way—as, And I figured that I would get two or three books out, and I would have this confidence of, Oh, yeah, I know how to write a book. I’ve never felt like I knew what I was doing at all. I’m always so surprised when it turns out well. (laughs)

This book had a very short deadline, so I was really having to write quickly. I’ve never had to push myself quite that hard to write quickly, and I was consumed with self-doubt on this book. I didn’t know if I could do it. Be fast and be brilliant! No pressure. I saw Margaret Peterson Haddix when she was here. She’s a friend, and we were having dinner together. I was telling her these things, and she said, “Well, I have 20-something books out”—I can’t even remember the number she used, and she said, “I never know if I can write a book or not.” It made it alright, and it gave me the confidence to doubt what I’m doing and keep going.

As a local author, what’s your favorite literary event in Nashville?
I’ll give you two things. My very favorite thing that goes on for writers and anyone who loves kid lit is SCBWI’s conference, which is happening next weekend. . . . That is the most fabulous group of people—supporting writers, supporting people who love books. They are vibrant and amazing and my best friends in the world, and I love to spend a weekend with them. There is nothing more rejuvenating and wonderful that spending a weekend with the SCBWI Midsouth people. I get to give a keynote this year, and I’m super excited because I went to that conference for the first time 10 years ago. I had written one chapter and had never written anything before in my life. What I knew was zero! I went into that place, and I came out thinking, Yes, I can do it. I can absolutely do this. It’s a very special thing for me.

And who cannot love the Southern Festival of Books? That’s also a thing of beauty and wonder!


Questions and answers have been edited for length.

Just prior to The Forgetting book launch event at Parnassus Books in Nashville, we spoke with author Sharon Cameron about her thrilling new sci-fi adventure, its questions of memory and truth, and what it’s like to belong somewhere you never expected.

Interview by

Screenwriter Elan Mastai’s debut novel, All Our Wrong Todays, is a hugely entertaining time-travel narrative and tale of alternate reality. In a techno-utopian world very different from our own, a grieving scientist’s son travels back in time and accidentally alters history, only to return to 2016 and find himself in our reality. This novel is his memoir, and while it includes plenty of physics (although these sections are limited and brief), it’s also full of romance and provocative explorations of self.

With film rights sold before the book even published, All Our Wrong Todays offers an abundance of juicy theories and questions of consciousness and paradoxes. Here, Mastai discusses his Vonnegut inspiration, time-travel pet peeves and possibilities, and the beauty of storytelling in a far-from-perfect world.

When did you love affair with time travel begin?
Probably when I was visited by my future self with an urgent message about preventing the terrible crime I would one day commit. So, the usual way.

No, as a teenager, I read Slaughterhouse Five, an old paperback borrowed from my grandfather’s extensive collection of 1950s and 1960s science fiction. I’d never read anything like it. When Kurt Vonnegut describes how the Tralfamadorians experience time as a continuity, able to experience the past, present and future simultaneously, and how that affects their storytelling and philosophy—that was a formative concept for me. As a writer, I like to think about untapped wells of storytelling hidden inside well-worn tropes. If I’m going to ask readers to try another time travel story, I want it to have the same effect on them that Slaughterhouse Five had on me. That’s the hope anyway. Each reader will, of course, decide for themselves if I succeeded.

What’s your greatest time-travel pet peeve? Favorite time-travel possibility?
My pet peeve is that time-travel stories typically behave as if the Earth is stationary. You open a door in time, walk through it, and you’re in the past. But of course the Earth is constantly moving. And fast. Like, really fast. Our planet spins on its axis at up to 1,000 miles per hour, while orbiting the sun at around 67,000 miles per hour, which itself moves within our galaxy at 1,300,000 miles per hour. So traveling back in time also means transporting yourself across vast distances—millions, even billions of miles—and precisely landing on the spinning outer crust of the planet, rather than up in the atmosphere or embedded inside the planet or at the bottom of the ocean or in the vacuum of outer space. Since any of these possibilities would make for a short, gruesome end to the story, most time-travel tales just ignore it.

My favorite time-travel possibility is the most obvious of all: a second chance. Time-travel stories are usually stories about regret. We all have regrets. We all have pain, loss, humiliation, error. The chance to fix our mistakes. To erase the worst of our decisions and replace them with better, wiser, less hurtful or more graceful choices. It’s impossible in life. But not in fiction.

Talk to me about Tom. Was his voice always so forthright in your mind? Particularly when he discovers his new timeline in our 2016 and starts to learn more about himself, he’s so honest about the realization process, about his failures and why he tells the story the way he does. Why do you think he’s so straightforward with his audience?
I had the idea for this novel many years ago, but I couldn’t quite figure out how to tell the story. One summer day, I was walking my dog down the street and it occurred to me that I could write it as a first-person narrative. That might seem evident, but my background is as a screenwriter and movie scripts are always written in the third person. And in Courier font. I’ve spent so much of my life staring at Courier font. As soon as I realized it could work in the first person, the opening sentence of the book popped into my head in Tom’s voice. I stopped on a bench and wrote it down, then the next sentence, and the one after that, until I’d written the first chapter, while my dog whined to continue her walk. Her name is Ruby Slippers and her whine is extremely high-pitched, so the fact that I endured it to keep writing tells you how strong and clear Tom’s voice was right from the start.

I think Tom is so candid because he wants what we all want: to be understood. For who we are, in spite of our many faults and blunders. The novel is written as a memoir, but really it’s a confession. In the beginning, he’s honest because he has nothing to lose. In the end, he’s honest because he has so much to lose.

The male characters seem to be driven by the pursuit of greatness or the love for a woman in their life. Therefore, the men’s actions drive the plot, but the women determine its direction. (And it should be noted, the women here are all brilliant, and quite a bit more impressive than the men, even the genius ones.) Was this something you intended to explore with this book? (Is there a personal connection here?)
My mother was a brilliant and impressive woman. She was an art critic, a curator and a museum director, until she died when I was 26. My father followed her across the world to start a new life in Canada, where I was born. Is there a personal connection? Yes. But I also like to write about the kinds of people I like to spend time with, regardless of gender. Smart, complex, shaded women. And men, too. As a first-person narrative, all the characters are presented through Tom’s point of view. But since he’s a man—and one with a lot to learn about a lot of things, particularly how he relates to the women in his life—it was important to me to craft rich female characters that suggest vivid lives beyond the frame of Tom’s perspective.

“What I like about books is that sometimes you’re told things you don’t want to hear by people you’ve never met. That’s how you change your mind.”

Tom’s world is arguably better than ours in every way—except when it comes to stories. It’s a staple of utopian worlds for stories, art and music to lose their power, and while socio-economic disparity has been mitigated in through your utopia’s power source, there’s still death (even sudden, horrible deaths, at that), and so there’s still a mortal drive to create art. But why did you decide this techno-utopia would change how we experience novels?

Well, I love books. So any alternate reality worth thinking about begs the question: Sure, OK, that’s cool, but what are the books like?

Tom’s world has no war, no illness, no poverty, no prejudice, but also no books. Not the way we have them in our world. Instead of books or movies or video games, it has storytelling media based on brain scans that port your personal psychology into a narrative framework, like a waking dream. It’s not about an author exorcising their demons or beguiling their angels. It’s all about you. Your fears, your kinks, your longings. I imagined Tom’s world as a technological utopia based on the social outlook of the 1950s. So postwar consumerism thrived, while antiauthority skepticism never took hold as it did in our version of reality. I saw this storytelling technology as the result of a certain kind of egocentric consumerism that tells you there’s nothing more important than what you want. What I like about books is that sometimes you’re told things you don’t want to hear by people you’ve never met. That’s how you change your mind. In Tom’s world, nobody thinks they need to change their mind.

One of my absolute favorite moments in the book is when Greta (who is amazing, by the way) goes off on a hilarious rant about trying to control our world. “It just pisses me off,” she says, “these f_cking sci-fi allegories where, you know, if we just stick with the plan, we’ll fix it all and live in a futuristic paradise. When, actually, our one chance at saving our only home in the universe is quitting the plan.” But Tom’s choice is much more complicated than that. If you had Tom’s choice, would you try to fix the timeline you broke?
I love Greta. It’s funny because she’s the one character I didn’t plan for before I started writing the book. When she shows up in the story, it was actually the first time I’d even thought of her. She just kind of asserted herself as absolutely necessary. But I have two sisters and I can’t separate who I am from the experience of growing up with them. When I was establishing who Tom is in our world versus the one he’s from, Greta became the key to figuring that out.

We break timelines all the time, in the choices we make and the consequences we endure. If I could change certain decisions I made in the past, I would. But I can’t. It’s out of my control. In Tom’s case, he has the power to change history because of the time machine. Except, as Greta’s rant suggests, the power to control is often a delusion. Controlling a person. Controlling a country. Controlling a planet. Does the history of humankind tell us that usually works out? Fiction is the respite. In fiction, I can revisit my mistakes and search for better choices. Sometimes I find them.

What’s the main gripe you expect about your time-travel physics, and what’s your response?
Probably that my model of time travel requires a form of radiation, what I call tau radiation, that is theoretically possible but doesn’t actually exist. Or at least hasn’t yet been discovered! My response would be that I’m pretty sure the physics bear out, but time travel would definitely be more difficult without tau radiation to provide a breadcrumb trail through time and space. Also, I’d suggest the griper relax a bit and enjoy the speculation, since actual time travel would likely be a disaster for humanity.

Is there a visual component of this story that you’d especially love to see in the movie?
Well, kind of the opposite. In the book, the reader can picture what things look like based on their imagination. Despite hundreds of pages spent inside his point of view, I never describe Tom’s physical appearance. I like that the reader can picture him however they want. It’s the same with all the characters. Unless there’s a specific physical trait that’s relevant to the story, I intentionally left their appearance open to interpretation. But a movie is specific. Tom will be played by a particular actor and his face will forever be Tom’s face, not just in the movie but for a lot of potential readers. Likewise all the characters. I’m in no way complaining about having a movie made from my novel. Far from it. But that’s one of the things you give up in the adaptation.

What’s next?
I’m currently working on the movie adaptation of All Our Wrong Todays and writing a new novel.

Read our review of All Our Wrong Todays.

Author photo credit David Leyes.

Screenwriter Elan Mastai’s debut novel, All Our Wrong Todays, is a hugely entertaining time-travel narrative and tale of alternate reality. Mastai discusses his Vonnegut inspiration, time-travel pet peeves and possibilities, and the beauty of storytelling in a far-from-perfect world.

Interview by

David Arnold is one of my favorite authors to run into at a Nashville literary event. Although he left Tennessee for the bluer grasses of his hometown of Lexington, Kentucky, he’s still a regular face around town, and he’s often the most genuinely excited author in the room.

On the day of our chat, which is sadly via phone instead of at one of our favorite local record stores like I’d hoped, we’re exactly one month away from the publication of his third novel, The Strange Fascinations of Noah Hypnotik. When I ask how he’s feeling, I’m pretty surprised by his answer: “You know what’s funny about that?” he says. “I’m less excited and nervous with each book, and I’d say that’s a good thing. You have to move on. I feel very strongly that whenever someone asks what’s your favorite thing that you’ve written, it’s always the newest thing. I feel very strongly that Noah is my strongest novel. Noah is my most personal book in a lot of ways. I have never written an autobiographical character, and I don’t really plan to, but Noah would be the closest thing to that I’ll ever write.”

You might be a big fan of Mosquitoland or Kids of Appetite, but Arnold’s latest, with its sci-fi-tinged explorations of time and reality, is easily his most ambitious to date.

Sixteen-year-old Noah Oakman seems to be living a pretty typical suburban life, even if it feels like his trajectory is a bit out of his hands. He’s a star swimmer being courted by college scouts (although he’s faking a back injury while he dreams of a life outside athletics), his parents are almost annoyingly in love, his doting sister idolizes him, and he’s so set on living a life of predictability that he has a self-imposed wardrobe—jeans and T-shirts emblazoned with David Bowie’s face.

Noah’s starting to feel like he’s outgrowing aspects of his life, so he retreats into the things that bring him comfort: “Gilmore Girls” and YouTube rabbit holes. The only person who can pull Noah out of his reverie is his half-Puerto Rican gay best friend, Alan (whom Arnold admits is lovingly modeled after his own best friend, fellow author Adam Silvera). When Alan and his twin sister, Val, convince Noah to let loose at a high school party one night, Noah has a few too many drinks and lets a mysterious man hypnotize him. When Noah wakes the next morning, he finds himself with more pressing issues than his first hangover. Key details of his life have changed, and everything he’s accepted as fact and reality is turned upside down.

“In 2010, my wife and I went on a cruise, and there was a hypnotist on the ship. When you’re on a cruise, you just go with it,” Arnold says with a laugh. “I remember him asking for volunteers, and thinking, what if someone went under and when they came out, everyone in their life was completely different?”

The seed may have been hypnosis, but Noah’s story began taking shape when Arnold and his wife moved from Nashville to Lexington. “We lived with my parents while we were looking for a house, so I literally wrote a chunk of this book where I did my homework in high school,” Arnold says. “So of course I’m going to write a story about a kid who looked like me when I was that age. Of course I’m going to write a . . . book about change when that’s the predominant thing going on in my life at the moment.”

“In high school, I remember feeling like I was changing and no one else was.”

Much like Noah, Arnold struggled with some existential angst during his teen years, although he had to figure it out without the added wrinkle of hypnosis and altered reality.

“When I was a senior in high school, I remember feeling like I was changing and no one else was,” Arnold says. “The great secret is that everyone felt that way. That’s sort of what this book is about: a kid who feels like he’s changing, but no one else is, and no one else could possibly understand what he’s going through. Over the course of this one night, everything gets flipped. It’s almost a mirror image: Everyone in his life has an actual, physical change, and he’s the only one who hasn’t.”

Although The Strange Fascinations of Noah Hypnotik is propelled by a surrealist mystery that asks heady questions about how each of us experiences our own reality, Arnold keeps it all grounded by reminding readers that Noah’s most pressing struggle is simply growing up.

“I did feel very strongly that I wanted to write a character whose struggles were completely internal. When the book opens, [Noah’s] feeling this low-frequency dread, and you’re kind of like, why though?” Arnold says.

With whip-smart dialogue, fun pop-culture asides, endlessly endearing and fully realized characters and a hypnotic mystery, it’s no surprise that Paramount has already secured the film rights for The Strange Fascinations of Noah Hypnotik. This fan, for one, would love Arnold to write the screenplay.

“I would not be opposed to taking a crack at writing it . . . but if I had my preference, I would rather someone who knows what they’re doing do it,” Arnold says with a laugh. “Becky Albertalli [author of Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda] is my critique partner, and I’ve been able to see what she’s gone through. If it’s in the ballpark of Love, Simon, I’ll be thrilled.”

 

This article was originally published in the June 2018 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.

David Arnold is one of my favorite authors to run into at a Nashville literary event. Although he left Tennessee for the bluer grasses of his hometown of Lexington, Kentucky, he’s still a regular face around town, and he’s often the most genuinely excited author in the room.

Interview by
This BookPage Icebreaker is sponsored by Baen Books.

When one talks about military sci-fi, one has to talk about David Weber. Author of the long-running, deeply influential Honor Harrington series, Weber has been delighting readers with the action-packed adventures of his titular character since 1992. A decorated politician and soldier, Honor is a “strong female character” that is allowed to have more personality traits than simply strong and female. Clever, empathetic and dedicated to her loved ones and country, Honor has starred in 13 standalone novels, and fans have been eagerly awaiting the 14th, Uncompromising Honor.

We talked to Weber about visualizing warfare in space, plotting character arcs over several novels and if his latest book is the last we’ll see of the indomitable Honor Harrington.

I know that the Honor Harrington books were reportedly inspired by the Horatio Hornblower series, but when you originally conceived of them, were there any other influences for her character in your mind?
Well actually, the inspiration for the books wasn’t Horatio Hornblower. I knew that if the books succeeded, that was who she would be compared to. So I decided to go with that motif all the way through. She’s actually much more as character inspired by a mix of Horatio Nelson, who was killed at the Battle of the Nile, and Alexander Cochrane, who is a much less well-known, at least in the United States, British admiral. And so in a sense, she and Horatio Hornblower share a historical ancestor, since Hornblower was clearly modeled on Nelson.

Now, people have asked me many times why I made Honor Harrington female. And the answer to that is that it never occurred to me to make her anything else. Not because I was making any feminist statements or anything else, but because—alright, if you follow my books in general, most of them have very strong female characters, and I would say the majority of them, probably, have female protagonists. If you look at the Safehold books, you’ve got Merlin Athrawes, who was born a woman but who had to become man by reconfiguring a cybernetic body. I write about strong female characters because I like women and I like strong people, and that produces strong female characters.

I think probably my statement on women’s rights is to be seen in the fact that nobody’s fighting about it in my books and it’s a done deal. I think that maybe near-future science fiction is a good platform for novels that emphasize the role of women and the equalization of genders. But I think if you write far-future science fiction like I do, and your female characters are still facing the same glass ceilings, the same restrictions and so forth, then you’re really shortchanging women. Because 2,000 years from now, I’d like to say the whole question of gender equality will have the burning significance to people of say, the pharaoh’s policy towards the Hittites does to us, because it will be a done deal. Half the human race, at least the last time I looked, is female. And that means that half the capable people on the planet are female. And my theory is that any society that doesn’t want to take advantage of that deserves to be stuck in the Middle Ages and probably will be.

I feel like your books take that same stance in regard to race—that we wouldn’t define race in the same way that we do on Earth once we’ve colonized a galaxy. So of course it’s going to be a multicultural society.
Actually one of my friends who is black called me up after reading Field of Dishonor and said, “The queen of Manticore is black.” And I said, “Yeah.” And he said, “You don’t understand, the queen of Manticore is black!” And I said, “Yeah, I wrote the book. I know she’s black.” And he said, “But no one says anything about it.” And I said, “That’s what they said about it.”

Right, there you go, that’s it.
Yeah, I think that science fiction in general tends to be an optimistic genre. Even the most dystopian people at least assume we’ll have a future to be grim about, if you know what I’m saying. But I think that in general, it tends on the social side to take current problems and visualize solutions to them, whether that’s a good solution or a bad solution, and see how that plays out.

So I always stalk the person I’m interviewing online, as a matter of course. You have to be prepared. And in several of the interviews I’ve read with you, you’ve said that you see yourself as a storyteller as opposed to an artist. I was wondering if that is how you personally approach your work or do you think that is a thing that is, for want of a better word, necessitated by the genre?
I really can’t answer that question for other people. Those who write the stronger stories, for me, are those who are storytellers first, and writers second. Writing is the medium through which they tell their stories. And I think that my judgment has been that people who set out to grind a partisan ax, whatever the ax may be, I think that really weakens your work. There are exceptions, but those exceptions are usually where the entire object of the story was to be polemical, like Orwell’s 1984.

Or Brave New World or something along those lines.
Yes, exactly, exactly. And you’re in a different readership, reading for a different reason, than you are for the general readership of science fiction. And that’s not to say that there’s not crossover between the two, because there definitely is. I think that to me, the crunch point comes when your vision of yourself as a writer, as a stylist begins detracting from the story you’re trying to tell. The point at which the reader begins looking at how you’ve done it rather than what you’ve done.

My judgment is that you can learn to be a writer, but you can’t learn to be a storyteller. You either are a storyteller or you’re not. Now you can learn to tell them better. But you have to have that storytelling bug.

Going back to the social structure of the world you’ve created, something I think is unfortunately rare in sci-fi especially is a religion that is not a terrifying cult or seen as alien or prehistoric. I think there’s this idea that, when we’re talking about a society evolving beyond sexism and racism, that somehow society will also evolve beyond religion. And I don’t think I agree with that, and I like reading books like yours where that is very much not the case.
Well, I am proof in advertising. I’m a Methodist lay speaker, although my certification has lapsed. I think that the people who believe that religion has to wither away probably don’t really understand faith in the first place. And I don’t intend that as a slam, because there are people who are people of faith, and there are people who aren’t, and a lot of depends on what your own personal experience has been. I know people who are blindly religious and don’t care about any possible challenge to their beliefs. I know people who are equally blindly secular, and will admit no evidence that might challenge their beliefs.

My personal view is that religion is very unlikely to ever wither away completely. I think that for whatever reason, we as a species are hardwired to look for something beyond ourselves, something greater than ourselves in which to believe. And I think that people who claim to not be religious have, in many cases, simply expressed that need to believe in and identify with something greater toward something other than God. There’s something that they put at the top of their hierarchy. And again, I’m not condemning them for that. I think that all of us have that need, that hunger.

I have met that need in myself through my faith in God. And I try to portray religion fairly in my books. As a practicing Christian and as a person of faith, I obviously believe that religion has a place in people’s lives. As a historian, I am aware of how that need to give God a place has been distorted and used for absolutely counter purposes time and time again. And I try to show both the positive and the negative side in what I write.

And as a historian, how do you visualize warfare in space? Are there forms or kinds of historical battles that have helped you figure out how you would plot a battle in space?
Well, I must confess—I think it’s probably the worst kept secret in science fiction—that I deliberately structured the technology in the Honor Harrington books to do the line of battle of naval warfare. I designed it so they would do broad sides at each other. The elements of naval strategy aren’t going to change all that much. The environment will change. And I think that naval combat is going to be a better guide for what goes on in space combat that say, air forces are.

That would have been my first assumption, because aerial battles are more three-dimensional.
Right and see the U.S. Navy has carriers and it has submarines, so it’s already a 3-D playing field.

Oh, I didn’t think about that!
And the U.S. Navy is unique because of our carrier fleet. The Navy has to be able to practice air-to-air warfare, anti-submarine warfare, commerce raiding warfare—it has to be able to put an invasion fleet ashore. And no one else in the world has anything like that capability.

Now, in the Honorverse and in interstellar warfare, it’s going to have a lot of resonances with World War II in the Pacific. Because the islands of the Pacific were isolated points in the middle of the ocean. Once they can be isolated by your fleet, nobody could possibly reinforce them, so one way or another, the island is going to fall.

In the Honorverse, once you control the gravity well of the planet, the planet is expected to surrender under the laws of war. Because if they can’t keep you from dropping rocks on them, you’ll eventually control the planet. And the Honorverse has the equivalent of the 18th-century, 19th-century laws of war that very clearly specify when a besieged city is supposed to surrender, what happens if it doesn’t surrender, etc., etc. And those grew out of the Forty Years War in Germany, which was just incredibly brutal. So they evolved a code of recognized practices of war.

I write military stories, and they tend to be about combat. Combat is absolutely horrific. And as a writer, writing about it, you have a responsibility to not sanitize it. I tend to be more of a believer in that you deal with the personal costs in terms of grief or guilt, and just every so often, you whack the reader in face with a scene that tells them how horrific it was. The hardest scene I think that I have ever had to write in the Honorverse was from Honor of the Queen. When Honor is dealing with the ensign who survived the mass rapes and the atrocities at the hand of the Masadans. And figuring out how to tell that critical part of the story without being overly graphic on the one hand, without dismissing it on the other.

And I think that the way I did it works. And I’ve had many women tell me that it works. It’s basically that you don’t actually see the assault at all. You’ve got this woman who’s obviously been shattered by what happened to her, trying to hang onto her sanity long enough to tell her commanding officer what happened. And then you have the commanding officer’s reaction to it. And I personally feel that that was a more effective way to handle it. Because you’re dealing here with what did it actually cost the human being involved.

So with such a long-running series and a character that’s been with you for so long, how do you approach plotting out a character arc?
With Honor, I knew a whole heck of a lot more than I told the reader in the first two books. If you read the first two books, you are introduced to this young, very focused, cool, calm collected person, and there’s truth to that. But it’s not until she meets Paul Tankersley and is forced to deal with things that she had suppressed—that had turned off one entire side of her life—that you begin to see that the Honor you met in the first two books is only a part of who she is.

I did that deliberately, because I knew that the character was going to grow and change over the course of the series. I wanted something that I could unpack for you as the reader. I wanted to be able to unwrap pre-existing parts of her that you didn’t know about to maintain that revelation process. I always knew that she was going to wind up with Hamish and Emily. That was really the only nailed-down part that I had.

So what’s coming up next for you?
The next Honorverse novel is A Call to Insurrection, which I am working on with Tim Zahn and Tom Pope. The next solo novel in the Honorverse will almost certainly be about Honor’s father and will be the story of his marine service. And Through Fiery Trials, the next Safehold book, is coming out in January.

I don’t know when/if there’s going to be another Honor-centric novel. One of the problems I had was that she was supposed to die in At All Costs, and she didn’t. And that’s fine! I love Honor, I’m glad she didn’t die, I’m good with that. The problem was that she was supposed to die at the pinnacle of her career. So here I have this woman who’s the commander of the grand fleet, and she’s this and she’s that—you can’t send her on death rides anymore! She’s too senior to be interacting with any junior officers. So the analogy I use when people ask me about this is that Honor will probably become Lessa from the Pern novels. Lessa and F’lar in the later novels are the senior leaders and not going out doing any of the crazy stuff. They are still central characters tying everything together, but they’re no longer the focus of the action.

Sci-fi/fantasy editor Savanna Walker talks with David Weber about visualizing warfare in space, plotting character arcs over several novels and if his latest book, Uncompromising Honor, is the last we’ll see of the indomitable Honor Harrington. Sponsored by Baen Books.

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Sponsored by Baen Books.


One of the pioneers of military science fiction, David Drake has drawn on his combat experience in Vietnam and his education in history and Latin to create fictional worlds that feel vitally, immediately real. His latest series, Time of Heroes, takes the classic characters of Arthurian legend and transports them to a chaotic universe where humanity is attempting to build a better, safer future. The Storm, Drake’s second installment in the series, follows the heroic and goodhearted Lord Pal as he embarks on a quest for his missing mentor. We talked to Drake about his favorite fictional world, his ideal library and more.

Which fictional world would you most like to live in? Which fictional world would you most hate to live in?
The world of Clifford Simak’s The Big Front Yard in which like-minded members of many—perhaps infinite—universes form a community of positive, problem-solving people.

The world of Asimov’s The Caves of Steel, in which the people of overpopulated Earth live and die in human Habitrails in which there is no hope for a different future.

For you, what is the most difficult aspect of world building?
Finding the world I want to use as a template. I almost always start with a place that is or has been real.

Who are your favorite heroes of fiction?
I guess Ned Beaumont, hero of The Glass Key by Dashiell Hammett. Beaumont is very smart and competent, but he’s not trying to run anything. He’s completely loyal to his boss—even when the boss is willing to sell him out.

He leaves when he’s treated badly enough, but he remains loyal—saving the boss as his final act before leaving.

Beaumont is a man of principles and sticks to them even when those around him fail him and fail themselves. That’s their business; he’s responsible for himself.

What do you need to get into the zone while writing?
Ideally I have a photo or drawing of the setting for the current scene laid out beside my computer.

What is the ideal snack/drink to pair with your latest book?
Pal, the hero of The Storm, is a kid from the sticks. He has simple tastes. He prefers ale to lager, and either to wine, which goes to his head.

The author is from Iowa and avoids alcohol because things went badly for those of his ancestors who were not abstainers. This book was written on tea.

Which books were your gateway drug into science fiction & fantasy?
The Angry Planet was the first real SF I read at age 11. It’s a YA, but the themes were utterly adult. Kids stow away on their uncle’s spaceship to Mars. They find a battle between good and evil, which they join on the side of good.

Evil wins, completely and horribly.

This showed me that SF is capable of thinking the unthinkable.

What is the hardest passage you have ever had to write?
A scene in which the viewpoint character of Igniting the Reaches confronts a pair of men who have betrayed him and his friend, and reaches a friendly accommodation without violence.

I came back from Vietnam with a great deal of anger. Describing a man who is well used to violence stepping away from it was very hard—but I knew it was what I needed to do.

Which of your characters would you most like to get a drink with?
Pal, of The Storm. He’s a decent and polite man who isn’t trying to run other peoples’ lives.

Describe your ideal library.
A lot of classical texts—the Greeks in translation.

A lot of memoirs, many of them military. Relatively few biographies. Some secondary history, but mostly those that are memoirs by participants.

Lots of classic SF and fantasy, including magazines.

What’s the first fictional world you came up with as a kid?
Oh, I don’t know about world exactly, but a jungle place with vine-covered ruined cities. Lots of exotic animals.

 

Order The Storm now from: B & N | Amazon | BAM

One of the pioneers of military science fiction, David Drake has drawn on his combat experience in Vietnam and his education in history and Latin to create fictional worlds that feel vitally, immediately real. His latest series, Time of Heroes, takes the classic characters of Arthurian legend and transports them to a chaotic universe where humanity is attempting to build a better, safer future. The Storm, Drake’s second installment in the series, follows the heroic and goodhearted Lord Pal as he embarks on a quest for his missing mentor. We talked to Drake about his favorite fictional world, his ideal library and more.

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