A Conversation with Rosalie Skinner

     Welcome Rosalie Skinner, author of the Chronicles of Caleath, a gripping science fiction/fantasy series featuring an exiled hero, magic, sorcerers, dragons, nanobots, romance, and Rosalie's love of wild brumbies (all this just for starters).

     ***CONTEST!  HOW MANY NAMES DOES THE MAIN HERO USE DURING THE SERIES?  (HINT: IT'S BETWEEN 1 AND 8.)  THE PERSON WHO GETS CLOSEST WINS A FREE BOOK FROM THE SERIES.  MULTIPLE WINNERS POSSIBLE.  CONTEST CLOSES FEB. 26 AT MIDNIGHT.  LEAVE YOUR ANSWER IN COMMENTS SECTION BELOW.***

1.  Rosalie, welcome to my humble blog site.  I'm so glad to have you as a guest.  Chats with writers sometimes just jump into the writing, but let me begin by asking if there's anything you'd just like readers and folks to know about you.

Rosalie - Hi John, thanks for having me on your blog.  I find it harder to talk about me, than my books, but here goes.  From a very early age I have been a prolific reader and not so much into writing.  For many years I painted portraits professionally, but when I ran out of Fantasy books to read in my local library I began writing.  Once I began I couldn't stop.  The Chronicles of Caleath came together as I learnt the art of storytelling.

2. You're probably best known for your Chronicles of Caleath.  For visitors who may not be familiar with your ongoing saga, could you supply what we writers call a brief summary blurb or what Plautus calls a "portion of plot"?

Rosalie - Caleath is a space age traveler stranded on a world where magic exists and technology is an alien concept.  At first he is unaware his journey is watched by off world viewers, similar to our obsession with Survivor and Big Brother.  He is driven by his need to survive, escape, and exact revenge on the man responsible for his abduction.  During his quest he becomes involved with the plight of the world he now inhabits. Not every challenge he faces meets with success, but as he survives he learns more about himself and his values slowly change.

3. You mentioned that Lea Schizas, the publisher of MuseItUp Publishing, contracted with you for an eight book series.  How did you conceive of an eight book series in the first place?  Did it come to you all at once, or did you sit down and plot and outline it out? Was it daunting and overwhelming to undertake such a large venture?  (I apologize if I ask too many questions here, but they seem interrelated.)

Rosalie - Lea Schizas helped me edit the first of the four books before MuseItUp existed.  So when she opened her publishing house, I was confident the series had found a good home.  The first four books were written as one.  One very long saga, and it was broken into four to suit the ebook format.  They were written separately, but each formed a new step in Caleath's journey. Adrift is really part one and two of the same story.  I think I had the most fun writing their seafaring adventures.  I didn't plot the outline of the series; rather it unfolded as one book concluded and the next began.

4. You say your hero Caleath was inspired by the "struggle of a young adult with a chronic illness."  How can this be when Caleath himself is so active?

Rosalie - The comparison might be vague, but to me it was linked. It evolved while watching a bright intelligent teenager with the promise of a successful career become ill.  While I watched her future as she dreamed it dissolve, Caleath's quest unfolded. Caleath's ordeal may not follow closely, but as I was writing, his challenges mirrored my daughter's. Finding friends falling away, being unable to pursue her chosen career, fighting constant pain, never giving up, facing depression and still being able to inspire others... Her courage and determination inspired my writing.

5. What do you think makes your series different from other series? In other words, what makes it unique or distinctly personal?

Rosalie - The mix of science fiction with fantasy, technology, and magic, the Survivor/Big Brother aspect, are not often seen in epic fantasy. Caleath usually finds himself failing, but finding a way around problems. Rather than a princely character seeking his inheritance, or a stable boy who is really a prince or wizard, Caleath is a stranger who wants nothing more than to leave.  He has no power agenda.  Rather the opposite.  I like to think it reflects the ups and downs of life rather than a Hollywood agenda.  Again, it reflects watching real life challenges and seeing them not always turn out with brilliant results.

6. So far, have you encountered any particular difficulties or surprises in writing the Chronicles of Caleath?

Rosalie - I found Invaded: The Darkest Day difficult.  I began wanting it to encompass several characters during epic battles.  The manuscript was complete and only after a year or so when I came to edit it, I found it didn't work on the huge scale, so I rewrote it from a single point of view. Took a lot to discard the work I had put into the battle scenes, but I think it works better now.

7. I know it's hard to pick, but do you have a favorite scene?

Rosalie - From the eight books... I have a few.  I like the dragon scene in Exiled: Winter's Curse.  I guess it would be my favorite.  It is the first time we meet the dragon Merkaat and the dead wizard Tallowbrand. Two of my favorite characters.  The most fun to write though were the seafaring scenes in Adrift.  They were great fun to write and research. :) 

8. Any particular writing plans for the future, either in the Chronicles or other projects?

Rosalie - The first book in a spin-off series has been completed, but I want to finish the second book before I submit it elsewhere, in case plot twists mean the first book needs changing.  At present I am busy writing short pieces in other genres, for interaction with my local writing group.

9. Did you get into publishing late or early, and how has the experience been for you--especially with MuseItUp Publishing?

Rosalie - As a writer I started late.  I had no thought on publishing until online writers from my critique group began to ask for the books.  After self publishing the first book as two print books, I became interested in e-book publishing.  It was a godsend to be signed up with MuseItUp.  As I said previously, knowing Lea, I was confident my series had found a good home.

10. Can you think of any question or questions you haven't been asked that you'd like to answer?

Rosalie - The science fiction portion of the books (apart from the space travel) is close to becoming science fact.  Nanobot technology is necessary to enable astronauts to get to Mars.  There is a scheduled trip planned for 2020, so they must be mastering the nano technology.  I hope their nanobots work better than Caleath's do. :)

I would also like to mention the final two books in the series. Adrift: In Search of Memory and Adrift: The Fragile Sun...are scheduled for release before Christmas with special deals on the first books if readers have missed them.  It will be the first time the complete series has been available! [Obviously, there's been a slight delay.] 

WRITERS' GROUPS FROM HELL

by John B. Rosenman

Some years back, still smarting from a critical roasting by my writers’ group of one of my most brilliant and inspired stories, I had an idea for a themed anthology that would be the most horrific and frightening ever published. It would be called Writers’ Groups from Hell and compared to it, vampires and werewolves, sadists and serial killers would be like a visit to Arby’s. Extreme splatter-gore? Cosmic monsters? Creepy, gothic, Ramsey Campbell-like atmosphere? Pah! They wouldn’t be in the same ballpark. I even started a story in which Ed Gein, Ted Bundy, and Lovecraft’s Old Ones team up to commit a string of ghastly and unmentionable crimes only to run right into the arms of an overly-critical writers’ group. As Kurtz would say, “The horror, the horror!”

Some writers’ groups can be horrifying, or at least, a complete waste of your valuable time. And since life is short, what can be worse than that? I’ve heard of groups which are nothing more than mutual admiration societies. They meet at each other’s homes for prolonged events accompanied by food and booze and listen as each member reads his work. Afterward, they reward him with tumultuous applause, tell him how wonderful his junk is, and reach for another piece of pizza as the next participant rises with his masterpiece.

Uncritical praise. We all want it, but the sad truth is, it’s almost always a dangerous delusion, a tempting lie that will hurt rather than help our creative pursuits.

Then there are writers’ groups that involve another snare. They are vicious, confusing, discouraging and demoralizing. Their members have transparent envies and agendas, personal crotchets or preferences, and they are opinionated readers rather than discerning critics. Often, their “critiques” reveal not so much the merits or demerits of what you’ve written, but some personal inner quirk, wound, neurosis, or impenetrable denseness. Perhaps worst of all, their comments may be all over the waterfront and resemble a dozen blind men feeling different parts of an elephant and thinking it’s a refrigerator. You sit at the table or lounge on the floor, and listen as they grind their myriad axes and their sage words go around the room.

“I didn’t understand the ending. It’s too ambiguous. Why does Jesse leave Gladys? I thought he loved her!”

“The ending doesn’t work. It’s too obvious. Jesse should have left Gladys years before.”

“Why does the green leaf in the first sentence glitter? It’s just a leaf.” [I actually got this once.]

(Thinly veiled disgust, implying that you’re a pervert who shouldn’t be allowed near children.) “Why are you so obsessed with sex? I find this scene sick.”

“Why Jesse’s hair? Why not his hand or belt buckle?”

(Thinly veiled contempt, implying you shouldn’t give up your day job.) “I didn’t like this story. It’s ridiculous, clumsy, and fails on all levels. You shouldn’t write about leaves anyway.”

“A gun goes off outside and Jesse thinks something might be wrong? DUH!” (A look around to see if others appreciate her wit and urging them to join in her mocking laughter.) “Not very bright, is he? And you expect us to believe he’s a DETECTIVE?”

“I have just a few changes to suggest. Why don’t you make Jesse an old black man instead of a young white hippie and make him a quadriplegic. And instead of breaking up with his girlfriend because he can’t stand her jealousy, have him do it because he finds out he’s gay. And I don’t like his negative attitude toward women. Make him an outspoken supporter of women’s rights. That way, when the church roof caves in, we mourn him. As it is, I don’t care a rip about your character.”

“This story’s too expository.”

“I like the exposition. It’s poetic. And I like the idea about making Jesse an old black guy, except I think Puerto Rican would be better. And I don’t like the name Jesse. Call him Eduardo.”

Okay, I exaggerate slightly, but comments like these are fairly common. Clearly, when one joins a writers’ group, he must be prepared not only to accept criticism but to critique it. Some criticism is about as helpful as an impacted tooth and you follow it at your peril.

This brings me, perhaps belatedly, to the two main points of this essay. They are as follows:

1. Why attend or join a writers’ group anyway? Or, put another way, why subject yourself to such insults and obtuseness?

2. What should a good writers’ group be like and how can you recognize it?

Question # 1. We need writers’ groups because we are not perfect. That is, as gifted as we might be, we have limitations, inadequacies, and blind spots. And I dare say that may apply even to some of those who read this blog. Good as we are, we can occasionally profit from a fresh and different perspective. Perhaps someone has specialized knowledge we lack or sees that a particular theme needs to be explored further. Perhaps someone else is a brilliant line editor and can improve a clumsy patch of writing or highlight an inconsistency or implausibility. Whatever the case, since we are not like Mozart in the movie Amadeus who simply writes down his symphonies as if he is taking “dictation” from the Almighty, we can usually benefit, sometimes greatly, from others’ input.

The main caveat here is that it is still our job to judge what others say, to critique the critiquers, especially when they disagree with each other and offer contradictory advice. But more about that later.

There are, of course, other reasons for joining a writers’ group, including the opportunity to interact with folks who share your interest in and enthusiasm for writing. Writing is often a solitary and lonely pursuit. The camaraderie of a good group can be inspiring, uplifting, and make you feel that you’re not alone but part of a community of like-minded souls. Plus, you can learn, not only about writing but about fellow writers, who are often amazing.

Finally, at its best, a writers’ group can be fun. My group laughs long and often, in addition to doing its job. We enjoy being with each other and have a good time.

Question # 2. You can recognize a good writers’ group because it helps writers to improve what they write and to sell it. Also, the flavor and feel of its meetings is sociable and productive. Some of the comments and criticisms may bite and make you tense, but when you consider them objectively, you realize they serve your central mission, which is to produce the best, most marketable work you can.

Now, for specifics. I’m not saying the following guidelines are the only valid ones or that every writers’ group must conduct itself in this precise manner (obviously, for an online or virtual writers' group, there will be differences.) All I know is that for the past eighteen years or so, it has worked well for me. 

1. I find that the ideal group size is between six to eight members. Too many more and a writer gets overwhelmed with critiques. Too many less, and there simply are not enough viewpoints to revise the work well enough. However, at times our group has chugged ably along with as many as twelve members and as few as three or four. In my judgment, it just hasn’t been as effective. An important requirement is that the members be capable and discerning readers. If they’re poor, having a hundred of them won’t do you any good.

2. We meet every two weeks from 6:30 to 9:00 pm. at a local library and pass out hard copies of our story, chapter, etc. to each member. A two-week break between meetings is about right. If we met every week there wouldn’t be adequate time to read and comment on every piece and to write a new one ourselves. As it is, we can relax a little, and then start preparing for the next meeting.

3. We limit ourselves to no more than thirty pages per meeting for each writer. It’s just common sense. Fifty or more pages would be too much.

4. We mark the stories up in advance and comment on each one as we move around the table until everyone has had a chance to comment. If Mary starts critiquing one story, then the person who begins on the next is the person sitting next to Mary. That way we have a system. After the meeting, we give the edited, marked-up stories to the writer. Written comments should be ample and clear enough so that he can understand them later. How honest should critical comments be? VERY honest. I have lost sales because somebody wasn’t frank or explicit enough about a weakness to catch my attention. At the same time, no one should be cruel. You can give a hard-hitting critique without eviscerating someone. Inevitably, though, feathers will sometimes be ruffled.

5. It helps to have a facilitator. Basically, what he does is to set up an official schedule (in our case he reserves the room in the library every two weeks for six months in advance.) Also, he picks the person who starts critiquing, and he makes sure no one is taking too long and we don’t run out of time. Now and then someone will get bogged down in detail. In this case, the guy in charge will nudge him.

6. Our meetings are structured but not rigid. I said before that we laugh a lot. While we usually don’t interrupt a critique, occasionally we do, whether it’s to make a point on the story or to question what the person said. Sometimes a difference of opinion will be aired as a result. As for the writer on the hot seat, he feels free to respond to comments, perhaps to ask questions or to disagree with a criticism. However, we discourage detailed defenses of one’s work. We are, after all, there to hear what others say, not to rebut it.

7. While someone’s being evaluated, he evaluates what’s said. Some criticisms are just dead wrong. After a while, if the members remain the same, we learn about each other’s preferences and modes of thinking. Some readers are better than others, but almost all have their strengths. One person will be good with detail and line editing. Another may make broad, sweeping comments that prove helpful. Yet another may prefer concrete endings that leave little to the imagination. You, as the writer, have to sift through and assay their responses, decide how seriously you should take them. If one person makes a criticism or suggestion, you might decide to ignore it. But if two, three or more do it, you probably want to give it a second look.

8. After you receive your story with everyone’s comments, you take it home and revise it based on them. Then, if you feel the story still needs work, you may take a revised version back to the group. Here, folks need to be tolerant and patient. I’ve resubmitted a story or chapter on numerous occasions. Usually I’ve done it only once, but sometimes I’ve done it twice. And there’s no guarantee it will work. Occasionally a story will just sicken and die. You can’t save or heal it, at least not yet. Usually, though, the revision process is a productive one. You keep improving the story, making it better and better, refining it to a point where you just can’t improve it anymore unless you put it in a drawer for a year or more and return with a fresh eye.

9. When I get to this point, I sometimes e-mail the story to a person in the group whose judgment I respect. This is the fine-tuning stage. Afterward the story should be ready to face the rejection mill. Hopefully, I’ve done my research, and I will send it to the best market. And then I begin writing my next story, because I want to have one ready for the writers' group when we meet again.

That’s about it. As I said before, this method isn’t perfect. After all, a writers’ group involves flawed human beings. At times even the best group can be hellish and counter-productive. But over the years, this approach has enabled me to sell over a hundred stories as well as a couple of novels. One member of our group has already sold four novels of a detective series to a major publisher. So the system does work. Ultimately, a group such as ours depends on two things: serious writers who are willing to listen, accept criticism, and work hard to improve their work, and competent, perceptive critics who genuinely want to help them. When both conditions exist, wonderful things can happen.

                    ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~                                

Originally published seven years ago, Feb. 13, 2007 at http://www.storytellersunplugged.com/
Revised for this blog.

How to Write Science Fiction

HOW TO WRITE SCIENCE FICTION OR SPECULATIVE FICTION

by John B. Rosenman

Available at:

https://museituppublishing.com/bookstore/index.php/museitup/sci-fi/space-opera/inspector-of-the-cross-detail

Believe it or not, some folks are afraid of writing science fiction, and think they can’t do it. How, after all, can you explain a cyclotron or bioengineer an improved breed of humans if you’re not a scientist? And as far as creating a scientifically-correct alien world is concerned, just forget it. Leave it to the experts like Larry Niven and Poul Anderson, right?

Relax, it’s not that difficult.

The first thing to know is that like people, science fiction has cousins and often intermarries with them. In other words, it overlaps with related genres, especially fantasy, both light and dark. Sometimes, it even becomes hard to decide whether a narrative is science fiction, fantasy, or science-fantasy. Is Ann McCaffrey’s popular Pern series fantasy or science fiction? Yes, you’ve got dragons, which make it fantasy. However, you’re also given a scientific explanation for the dragons, which makes it science fiction. Take your pick.

Want another example? Okay, suppose you’re a fantasy writer who likes unicorns. Now, do you want to become a science fiction writer without first earning a Ph.D. in nuclear physics or biochemistry? Simple. Without going into too much detail, create your unicorns in a laboratory and transport them to a distant, Earth-like world (just call it Terra). Is the result fantasy or science fiction? Well, using one diagnostic device, if you get there by a flying carpet, it’s fantasy; if you use a spaceship, it’s science fiction; and if you take a taxi, it’s slipstream or contemporary fiction. To be more sensible, where you put it in the bookstore depends on whether the events are based primarily on the paraphernalia of science fiction (faster-than-light drives, black holes, laser weapons, etc.), or of fantasy (dwarves, elves, magical spells, etc.). Just remember that if you want to write soft (as opposed to hard) science fiction, you don’t have to be too technical, and that if you write fantasy, you can write science fiction as well.

(Published by Mundania Press, Available on Amazon)

What, then, is science fiction? Sometimes it’s called speculative fiction, and many agree it’s the most conceptually rich genre there is, filled with endless possibilities. Science fiction can take place anywhere – in the present, the past, the future; on this world, or on others; in this universe, or in others – even a universe in a drop of water! Wherever it occurs, though, science fiction presents an alternate reality based to a lesser or greater extent on current science. Often, as in stories of time travel and faster-than-light drives, you have a writer speculate about what people could do if they could transcend certain “fixed” natural laws. In other works, or hard science fiction, you have systematic extrapolations of current knowledge into the future – e.g., Anderson and Beason’s Assemblers of Infinity, which concerns nanotechnology or the creation of microscopic machines.

Besides being speculative, science fiction causes people to ask questions. For example:

Are there any particular roadblocks in writing it? While you don’t have to be a scientist, it certainly helps to be one if you go into the nuts and bolts of building a fusion engine or space station. Still, diligent homework can compensate for your deficiencies, just as certain mainstream writers like James Michener have exhaustively researched places like Texas and Hawaii. Just remember not to make assumptions based on ordinary experience. For example, in an early draft of my novel, Beyond Those Distant Stars, I had ships colliding in space and making one hell of a racket. Wrong! Space is a vacuum, and you wouldn’t hear a thing. (Think of all those movies where you hear the opposite!) Nor, unless you put him in suspended animation or jump through hyperspace, can you have a starship captain visit another galaxy and return to embrace his wife. Because of the principle of “time dilation,” it’s widely accepted that your captain would age more and more slowly as he approached the speed of light and that his wife would be long dead. Indeed, he might find his great-great-great grandchildren waiting for him!

How does one prepare to write science fiction and avoid such mistakes? Easy – write, write, write; read, read, read. Join a writer’s workshop which emphasizes intelligent critiquing rather than mutual praise. Read the masters, Dozois’ annual The Year’s Best Science Fiction, and subscribe to the best mags like Asimov’s Science Fiction. Above all, remember that good writing is good writing regardless of genre. Often, it has some kind of early “hook” to interest the reader. For example, here’s how I began my story, “Rounded With A Sleep,” which appeared in Galaxy: “The ship came down like the breath of God, jets blasting the ground and echoing off distant mountains.” In all other respects, good science fiction contains the same elements you find in Shakespeare and Dostoyevsky: well-rounded, interesting characters that act and grow; intriguing, ingenious plots; good, even poetic language; skillful dialogue, rich symbols, subtle foreshadowing, etc.

Can too much technical stuff bore the reader? Yes, it can, unless it’s the rare reader who likes it. Even in most hard science fiction, the story comes first. In an interview I did with Mike Resnick for Dark Regions, he said that if “science and technology intrude upon the human values of a story, to that extent the story may succeed as science fiction, but it fails as fiction.” To him, “a writer’s two primary jobs are to entertain, and to elicit an emotional response.” Resnick does both superbly in his popular “Kirinyaga” tales. With masterful economy, he lets you know you’re in a tribal land relocated to an orbiting space station without bogging you down in detail. Story and characters are primary, and he maintains a delicate balance, telling you just enough, and no more, than is necessary.

Let me end with the cardinal rule about writing any kind of fiction: almost always, Show, Don’t Tell. Like Resnick, look at exposition with a critical eye, cut it whenever the story can tell itself, and you’ll be on your way – who knows, perhaps even to the stars.

********
I confess I'm so busy writing novels I'm recycling (with minor edits) previous blogs.  This piece was publishing long ago in The Genre Press Digest and in the Jan. 14, 2007 issue of storytellersunplugged, which you can find online.

DON'T BURY THAT TURKEY!

We’ve all written them—the turkey of a story or novel that ain’t gonna get published nowhere.  Whatever the reasons, it’s just not the kind of thing that any self-respecting editor or publisher will buy.  Maybe it deals with an unpleasant subject, represents an experiment that folks tell you went horribly wrong, or is the equivalent of performing “Springtime for Hitler” at a Zionist convention.  Whatever the case, it’s a creative turkey, a misconceived, misbegotten miscarriage you foolishly pulled from the realm of ideas where it richly deserved to stay, and committed to paper or your computer screen.  Now it’s become every writer’s worst nightmare, the TRUNK STORY FROM HELL that should be sealed in your trunk forever and sunk to the deepest level of the Mariana Trench.

Well, maybe.  And then again, maybe not.

The thing is, ultimately, you, not your critics, have to decide if your story has any merit.  Then, too, you have to decide if it’s worth continuing to pursue the matter and trying to publish the damned thing.  When does stubbornness become stupidity, especially when it becomes clear that if you do finally manage to sell that piece of unwanted and despised dreck, you won’t even get paid enough to buy a cheap martini?  Isn’t it far wiser to focus your creative endeavors on something that’s worthy, on something that’s not only good but which will sell to a decent, professional market?

Still, you have to decide.  Money and critical and popular recognition are important, but most of us have a story or two in our trunk that against all reason, we feel a perverted love for, an insane suspicion that despite what everyone says, it actually contains some merit, perhaps even more merit than popular, commercial stories because it dares to be different and take chances, because it doesn’t run with the pack.  Hell, maybe that story or novel not only marches to the tune of a different drummer, but it sings a song that no one else can hear, yet which is beautiful in its own way.

During my writing career, I have ultimately sold stories that not only no one seemed to want, but which they treated like leprosy.  One story I wrote a few years ago, “The Dark at the Bottom of the Stairs,” sprang (if that’s the word) from a personal visit to have my prostate and bladder tested.  It wasn’t a pleasant experience, folks, but I adapted the experience so it became a story.  One of my friends who critiqued the tale, said it “failed on every level.”  Ouch.

Yet last week I finally sold it.  Not for big bucks, mind you, but to a trade paperback collection focusing on unpleasant experiences.  It’s called . . . now get this . . . WRETCHED MOMENTS.   Snort if you want, but haven’t we all had such moments?  I bet if you think a while, you can remember some wretched moments you’ve had and perhaps stories you’ve written which were inspired by them.

Ultimately, the question is: how much do you believe in that story?  If you’ve considered all the negative criticism and still believe your story’s good, do you have the strength and determination to continue shopping it around, even if it doesn’t find a prestigious or profitable home?

The purpose of this blog, as astute readers may have guessed, is to urge you not to quit.  Persist, Persist, Persist.  Persevere.   Persevere.  Persevere.  Even if you face seemingly insurmountable odds, the long fight is worth it if you succeed in bringing a good but extremely unconventional story to readers’ attention.

Who knows, they may even thank you for it.

(Previously published, Storytellers Unplugged, Sept. 13, 2010).

BUT YOU'VE NEVER BEEN THERE!

 Using Your Imagination to Write about Places You've NEVER Been         (originally published [changes added] at http://storytellersunplugged.com/Dec. 13, 2009)

I like to write about places I’ve never been.  It’s liberating to use your imagination and take real chances, and it’s an experience I recommend to other writers, both beginning and more experienced ones.  You don't have to write only about what you "know." You can write about places in this world (and others) you've never visited.  Have faith in your abilities and don't second-guess them all the time.

                                        Visit my website at http://www.johnrosenman.com/

But wait a minute, you ask.  Don’t you have to visit places you write about?  Don’t you have to step on another country’s soil, smell the air, mingle with the inhabitants and interact with their culture in a thousand different ways in order to write about it authentically?  Otherwise, isn’t the process no better than a well-crafted, well-researched lie no matter how believable it seems to be?

Well, maybe.

And then again, maybe not.

The fact is, research, imagination and empathy can carry you a long way.  Also, while it’s nice to visit another place, it’s sometimes expensive, time-consuming, and may not always be practical.  One does have to make a living, after all.  Besides that, some countries may not let you in, for political or other reasons.

I teach at a historically black university.  I sometimes ask my students, “I’m an old white guy.  Could I write about life in the hood if I did a lot of research?”

Some of my students say no.  Others say yes.  I say, if I can make it believable to those who know firsthand about life in the hood and pull them completely into my fictional dream, why not?  As Samuel Taylor Coleridge said, what’s primarily necessary is to create “that willing suspension of disbelief . . . which constitutes poetic faith.”

Okay, here’s a couple of examples from my own writing experience.

One day years ago I started to read Chinua Achebe’s novel, Things Fall Apart, which is about the often destructive influence of English colonialism on Nigeria.  That book, plus its sequel, No Longer at Ease, and other research inspired my longest novel, A Senseless Act of Beauty, which is available at Crossroad Press (http://store.crossroadpress.com/index.php?main_page=advanced_search_result&search_in_description=1&keyword=senseless+act+of+beauty).  A Senseless Act of Beauty focuses on a beautiful African-type of planet that more civilized worlds seek to conquer and exploit in a brutal, oppressive fashion.  History repeats itself, in other words.

One of the stories in the novel, “Eyes of the Leopard,” stems from an idea that I found personally intriguing.  What if a radical, impressionist painter or artist were born into a Nigerian village circa 1900 and fell in love with the chief’s daughter?  Here is the way I began it:

One day, Ekwefi, the proud daughter of the tribal chief, decided she wanted to be especially beautiful for the Feast of the New Yam.  She thought and thought, and then she smiled.  Perhaps Amadi, the odd boy who drew such strange pictures, could help her.

            So she told her doting father, and a servant went to summon the boy.  Now the name of Amadi’s father is not important, for he was an efulefu, a lazy, worthless man who neglected his crops and preferred to drink palm wine and fashion flutes from bamboo stems.  Of all the huts in the Nigerian village, his was the meanest and poorest kept.  Indeed, it was considered a disgrace by others even to visit it.  So when the servant, a tall man of aristocratic bearing and many airs, announced himself and entered the cramped hut, he looked about in distaste, his nose crinkling at the dust and odors.

I hope I’ve captured the flavor of such a place and time, and discouraged the reader from wondering how a Jewish boy from Ohio could write such a thing.  The tribal story-telling style (e.g., “Now the name of Amadi’s father is not important”), and the local dialect (efulefu) contribute, I trust, to the local color and verisimilitude of the story.

Here’s one more example: several years back, I became fascinated by Nauru, an island in the southwestern Pacific.  Again, research was key, as well as imagination.  I wrote and published three stories that take place in that area, and recently, one of those stories, “Bagonoun’s Wonderful Songbird,” was republished by Gypsy Shadow Publishing (http://www.gypsyshadow.com/JohnRos.html#top/).  The improbable love story involves a fifteen-year-old girl and a man who is nearly seventy.  Emet wakes Bagonoun up and asks him to tell her a story.  Annoyed, Bagonoun finally has an inspiration, one involving local lore and tribal astronomy.

Ah, he remembered!  “Once there was a young girl,” he said, “who lived in the sky.  She—” 

             “What was her name?  You must say it!”                   

              Bagonoun made a face.  “Eyount.”

              “Pretty!”  She made a pleased sound and moved closer so her arm grazed his.

              “Anyway,” he went on, “Eyount’s parents decided to gather together some young boys so their daughter might choose a husband.  And when they came, there were many.  They all stood in a row so she could see them.  Being young, they were mischievous and liked to play games, especially the one in which they switched magic headbands made of stardust.  When they did this, they switched faces and bodies as well and tricked their friends into thinking each was the other.  Now two of these boys decided to play a prank on her.  One of them was named Demagomogom and the other . . . ”

So that’s how I write about places I’ve never been: I do research, use my imagination, and try to feel sympathy and even empathy for my characters, try to see the world through their eyes.  Granted, being born in a place or visiting it is better, but being creative and willing to take chances can accomplish miracles.  Fellow scribblers, I urge you to take chances and to be willing to fail.  Don’t reject that fictional idea just because it occurs in a place you’ve never been.  Go there in your imagination and make it real to your readers.

*********************************

“I’m Too Stupid!”

Zora Neale Hurston

by John B. Rosenman

I’m a teacher. Have been for a long time. It’s not as important to me as my writing, but it’s pretty close, largely because it involves writing. Now, I’m not talking about those student essays, term papers, and tests which I have to mark up and grade. To tell the truth, I’m sick and tired of them. After forty years, you get weary of wading through garbled research papers without a thesis or sixty tests in which students all answer the same questions in pretty much the same way.

No, besides teaching itself, which can be downright fun and exhilarating, what makes my job most fulfilling are the courses I’ve taught in creative writing. I’ve been fortunate enough to teach them at two institutions of so-called higher learning. At Norfolk State University in Virginia, where I teach now, I’ve had the opportunity to create and teach my own course in writing Science Fiction and Fantasy, which can stretch to include Horror and the Outright Bizarre. Needless to say, it can be a blast to expose young minds to brave, strange, even demented new worlds, to make them see that Shakespeare, Chaucer, and Faulkner aren’t the only ones who have written classics.

Above all, I’ve had the opportunity to awaken their imaginations and help them explore and develop their talent. How good can they be? Is that pasty-faced kid in the corner a future Stephen King, Poppy Z. Brite, or Ray Bradbury? You never know for sure.

Which brings me to my point: I’d like to tell you about a student I once had. This was about thirty years ago at a small black Southern college. I had expressed a desire to teach Creative Writing, a course, which to my knowledge, had been in the curriculum for years but never offered. It was an orphan sired by some idealistic or deranged administrator, then forgotten. I was the first who volunteered to adopt it.

To my surprise, I was assigned the course. And also to my surprise, students actually enrolled, all of them women. As I recall, that made me even happier. The day I walked into my first creative writing class and saw twelve young beautiful women looking back at me, I thought, “By God, I may have chosen the right profession after all!”

Besides being giddy, I don’t remember much about that first class. But I recall well what came after it. One of my students brought a friend up to my desk, hoping to convince her to enroll in the course. The friend differed from the others in being older, perhaps fifty. When I urged her to take the course, she said, “Oh, I can’t do that, Dr. Rosenman. I’m too stupid!”

Now it’s one thing to have low self-esteem and to think you’re stupid, but to proclaim it to a stranger with other people watching is . . . well, memorable. In all the years since then, I’ve wondered, “Who told you that you were stupid, and what made you think that way?” Later I learned that the woman (I’ll call her Carol) made $100 a month as a cleaning woman. It was subsequently increased to $100 a week. Whether Carol had other employment, I can’t say, but at the time it seemed her lack of self-confidence was due largely to being black and poor in the South.

Anyway, Carol came into my class and the first day she turned in a poem. I didn’t read it until the next day. And then I reread and reread and reread it.

It was a sonnet on love, written in iambic pentameter with an ABAB CDCD EFEF GG rhyme scheme. In it Carol used a variety of poetic devices such as alliteration, assonance, similes and metaphors.

While the poem itself was not flawless, it was damned close. Perhaps two or three professional poets out of a hundred could have equaled it. Needless to say, it didn’t seem to fit the self-abasement she had displayed on our first meeting. If this was being “stupid,” it was nothing to be ashamed about.

I wish I could tell you that Carol is known today as Toni Morrison, Maya Angelou, or some other world-renowned African-American writer, but that didn’t happen. Nor did she rise to the top of the class on a wave of creative genius. Truth is, she was an average student and received a “C” in Creative Writing. While that may not seem remarkable to others, it still seems impressive as hell to me. After forty years of teaching, Carol remains the most amazing student I’ve ever taught, the one who continues to have the most profound impact on me. All the brilliant “A” students down through the years fade in comparison despite their gifts.

I like to think we can learn certain things from Carol’s example. First, when it comes to writing, talent may exist in what seems the most unlikely or unpromising of places, so we should never prejudge. A bum or homeless person might delight us, whereas a Nobel Prize winner will leave us cold. Second, a superficial gift does not a writer make. I’ve taught many students over the years who could construct a story with a fair plot and good characterization, but a flash-in-the-pan glitter didn’t make them writers. They might have skills or a knack, but not a calling, and not the desire to practice and practice and practice their craft and develop as writers. For all I know, Carol did become a poet or writer, and a damned good one. But because (mea culpa!) I’ve long since forgotten her name, I wouldn’t know. Then again, perhaps she’s like Emily Dickinson, who consigned most of her superb work to her trunk, and it will remain to someone after her death to discover her.

Last, I’ve tried to learn confidence from Carol or at least develop a tendency not to judge my own writing talent too harshly. And that ain’t easy, folks, since I tend to be negative, self-critical, and full of doubts. Sometimes, when I write a story and I’m slogging through the fourth or fifth revision, it seems to me it all sucks, that everything from my style to my characters to my lack of logic contributes to the worst piece of dreck in the western world. At such times I shout, “I can’t do this. I’M TOO STUPID!”

But then I remind myself there isn’t a simple litmus test for talent, that it’s more complicated than that. Besides, I’m too close to the words and perhaps my story is better than I think. Indeed, it might even be the equivalent of Carol’s brilliant poem. And even if it isn’t, it’s ultimately the writing that counts, isn’t it? Not the quality or critical acclaim. Not even all that potential money.

In the end, this is what Carol taught me most: that we should write primarily because we want to and because we must. We should write because the greatest miracles of all occur within our own minds.*

* Previously published before I retired, but I thought it was worth a blog. :)

KINGDOM OF THE JAX, BOOK 2 -- THE INSPECTOR OF THE CROSS SF SERIES CONTINUES

 BOOK 2 -- KINGDOM OF THE JAX -- THE SF SAGA HEATS UP!

A man sacrifices everything to save humanity, politics and emperors be damned. 




Book 1                        Book 2

 Cover by Delilah K. Stephans          Cover by Kaytalin Platt                                          
Sometimes your worst enemy is on your own side . . . 

     When I wrote the first novel Inspector of the Cross, I never planned or intended to write a sequel.  Now I'm halfway through the third novel in the series, Defender of the Flame.  Does this happen to many writers of fiction series, or am I in the minority?  Do most writers intend to write a series from the beginning, or is that an accident?  Just wondering.  Either way, it's an exciting process.

Available at MuseItUp Publishing: http://tinyurl.com/d3hbm8g                                              
         Also available at Amazon and other major vendors.

* * * FOR MORE INFORMATION (BLURBS, EXCERPTS, ETC.) PLEASE SEE THE INSPECTOR OF THE CROSS SF SERIES PAGE ON MY SITE AT WWW.JOHNROSENMAN.COM * * *