Showing posts with label real science. Show all posts
Showing posts with label real science. Show all posts

The Perils of Near-Future Science Fiction—and How to Write it Anyway, by Shallee McArthur

Science fiction. It makes people think “voyages of the Starship Enterprise” and “in a galaxy far, far away.” Those things—far flung futures, space adventures, new planets, etc. etc.—are some of my favorite things about science fiction.

But that’s not the kind of science fiction I wrote. (At least, not for this book.)

The Unhappening of Genesis Lee is about a girl who’s genetically altered so that her brain can no longer store memories. Instead, she uses the rest of her nervous system to store memories in external objects through touch. It takes place in Arizona in the year 2084. That’s not exactly next week, though it’s also not far, far away. All things considered, 70 years in the future is relatively soon. And sometimes in the world of science fiction, “soon” can be a little dangerous.

The world has reached a point where the theories of yesterday are tomorrow’s news stories of success. We have so much technology, it enhances our ability to create more technology, faster. For a writer of near-future sci fi, there’s always the worry that the progression of science is going to outstrip your imagination. In a previous story, I wrote about a kind of body armor that I thought was so cool and high-tech…only to find out it was actually a real thing already.

There’s nothing worse than having your futuristic story look behind-the-times.

So what’s a writer to do? I’ve learned a few tricks that help me write better near-future science fiction—and these can extend to all genres.

Research – To me, this is a given. It’s science fiction, after all. This doesn’t mean I’ve got to become an expert in thermonuclear astrophysics overnight, but it does mean I better look beyond Wikipedia and that one cool news article on Hypable. Look into the history of the science—how it got where it is now. Look into where the experts want it to go—what’s their vision of the future? Over the course of writing Unhappening, I read approximately eleventy billion science journal articles about how memory works and what current research is doing with memory. And a good thing, too, because I had to modify some things along the way!


Imagine it more than once – I’m sure we’ve all had that moment—you read something online and immediately think, “That’d make a killer story!” DON’T just sit down and write a story based on that cool new thing you learned. That’s the easiest way for your story to be old news before it’s even written. Instead, speculate. (It is speculative fiction, after all—though this concept applies to pretty much any genre.) Ask what could go wrong. Ask what could go right, and then go wrong. Ask what society will look like if this thing happens, how economies and communication and human interaction will change. Ask what other advances this could lead to. Basically, imagine the idea more than once. Come up with three or four or ten possibilities that could come from this single new thing, and write the one that wasn’t your first thought.


Focus the story on universal human truths – This is the single best way to make sure your book won’t become irrelevant. People don’t care as much if science passes up your science fiction—if you “got it wrong”—as long as the story is focused on the universal human truths behind the science. In Unhappening, the heart of the story is really about forgetting. Because forgetting makes me afraid. It makes all of us afraid. It’s also about remembering, and the power in memories to shape us as human beings. It’s a story that asks what makes us who we are, and that’s something that will exist even if memory modification treatment for PTSD doesn’t happen the way my book claimed it would.


George Orwell wrote 1984 in the year 1949. The story speculated a mere 35 years into the future. But just because the book was “wrong,” because it’s now 30 years past its title-imposed expiration date, is it any less relevant? I think the entire world around us would say no.

I’ve read before that near-future sci fi is a gamble, even that it’s no longer possible to write it and stay relevant in this day and age. I disagree one hundred percent. Science fiction is and always has been about possibilities, not probabilities. It’s why people love it—it’s why I love it.

So go dream up what might be possible.

Shallee McArthur originally wanted to be a scientist, until she realized she liked her science best in fictional form. Her debut YA sci fi, THE UNHAPPENING OF GENESIS LEE comes out November 4th. Her other adventures have included wrangling a group of volunteers in Ghana, changing her hairstyle way too often, and raising two small nerdlings with her husband.

Get Out Of the Bathtub! There's A Storm Coming!

I can't tell you how many times I've heard this in my life.

Where I grew up you can see for miles over flat fields. Anytime farm chores left a film on your skin and thunderheads were piling up, you ran for the house so that you didn't have to smell yourself while eating dinner. Now that I'm older - and supposedly wiser - I've found out that a lot of the things I learned when I was a kid weren't necessarily true. Try most of American history... but that's another post.

So while brainstorming for new book ideas I found myself ruminating on this old idea. Did I really need to leap out of the bathtub every time my mom yelled at me, or was she just being overly protective? A little research was all it took to find out that she was no helicopter parent and that Norman Bates is not the only thing to be scared of while getting clean.
  • Yes: You can be struck be lightning while in the shower. When lightning strikes a home it can travel through plumbing, metal pipes delivering that electricity directly to anyone who happens to be holding onto them at the time. Not only that, but the water itself carries impurities that help conduct electricity.
  • Hold the Phone: Actually, don't. For everyone who still has a landline, those conduct lightning blasts as well. Right into your ear. 
  • Those Dishes Will Keep & Your Breath Is Not That Bad : Yeah, don't do dishes during a thunderstorm either. Or brush your teeth. Honestly you should probably just follow the dog. Go under the bed and whimper for a little while.
It turns out that mother nature really can be quite vengeful, and my own wasn't as paranoid as I thought.



An Iron Rod To The Head Can Really Change Your Perspective

I'm fascinated by the human brain. Deeply, deeply fascinated. Our understanding of the rest of our bodies is pretty thorough, but the organ that makes us US, that commands our speech and movement, our personalities and intelligence we're still drawing a pretty big blank on. Yes, we're learning. We're mapping our brains and using the technology at our fingertips to make strides, but one of the larger steps toward knowing more about our brains came in 1848.

Phineas Gage was a railroad worker whose job involved setting blasts to make way through rock for the new lines. He used a tamping iron - a metal rod three feet long - to tamp charges down before igniting them. On September 13, 1848 someone messed up. A hole had been bored into the rock, the powder had gone in, and (Gage thought) so had the sand that his tamping iron packs. But the sand wasn't there, and when Gage struck the gunpowder it ignited, sending his tamping iron through his skull. It entered below his left eye socket and exited through the top of his head.

Yep, that's gross.

If you want to see a digital reconstruction of the accident (skull only, no gore) take a look at this video from the New England Journal of Medicine. I personally love that they added Gage's jaw dropping open in shock as the tamping iron explodes his eye socket.

Gage is famous not because he had a tamping iron blown through his head. He's famous because he lived even though part of his frontal lobe exited along with the tamping iron. Gage not only lived, but was walking and speaking right after the accident. His workmen carted him to the town doctor, to whom he supposedly said, "Here's work enough for you, doctor."

Yes, he even had a sense of humor about it all.

But, not for long. Though Gage lived through the accident, his personality showed damage long after the physical healing was finished. Gage had been a hard worker, an intelligent foreman and a pleasant person. Post-accident Gage was a shadow of his former self. The doctor who treated him initially, Dr. John Martin, followed Gage's progress with interest and documented the personality change:
The equilibrium or balance, so to speak, between his intellectual faculties and animal propensities, seems to have been destroyed. He is fitful, irreverent, indulging at times in the grossest profanity (which was not previously his custom), manifesting but little deference for his fellows, impatient of restraint or advice when it conflicts with his desires, at times pertinaciously obstinate, yet capricious and vacillating, devising many plans of future operations, which are no sooner arranged than they are abandoned in turn for others appearing more feasible. A child in his intellectual capacity and manifestations, he has the animal passions of a strong man. Previous to his injury, although untrained in the schools, he possessed a well-balanced mind, and was looked upon by those who knew him as a shrewd, smart businessman, very energetic and persistent in executing all his plans of operation. In this regard his mind was radically changed, so decidedly that his friends and acquaintances said he was 'no longer Gage.'
While Phineas' accident was life-changing in a bad way, it led to tremendous gains in the emerging science of neurology. Scientists were just beginning to understand that different areas of the brain served different purposes, and while they didn't quite grasp how this worked (enjoy this amusing early phrenology chart), Gage's trauma taught them that the frontal cortex was heavily involved in personality and social reasoning.

Gage died during an epileptic fit thirteen years after the tamping rod accident. His skull and tamping iron are in the Harvard University School of Medicine, if you want to go see them.

Gage's story is both sad and amazing, one that's always captured my attention. That a iron rod can pass through the human brain and that brain continue to function might sound like fiction, but it's not.

It's just science.


Reverse the Polarity

I am beginning to think of myself as less of a science-fiction writer and more of a sciencey-fiction writer.  I realized this a while ago as I was talking to a friend who was agonizing over the mechanics of dimensionality in her current book (she was flipping frantically through Stephan Hawking's A Brief History of Time and watching Michio Kaku videos about string theory.)

My advice to her?  Read and watch all the stuff, make your book sound science-y with the things you learn, but don't shred your brain trying to solve a problem that even Michio Kaku hasn't solved.

My thought is that readers and viewers know the reality of things right now; they know that extra-dimensional travel is not (currently) possible or that Mars's lack of a magnetosphere makes terraforming the planet a non-viable prospect, but that's not why they bought the ticket.  They bought the ticket because they wanted to imagine for a while that it is possible.

I think science-fiction needs to look forward, to be creative and spark imagination--and that's not always possible to do while incorporating every known obstacle. Space operas have to project to a future time when deep space travel has become feasible, books about robots have to imagine that the thousand million problems hindering actual AI have been dealt with.  (Doctor Who, of course, is the best example of being science-y--and nobody cares because it is so delightful.)

So there it is.  Be creative, be inspired, look forward.  Use what is known now, but don't be afraid to envisage a world where some of the peskier problems have been already solved.  You'll need your energy for the writing all the love scenes in your robot, terraforming space opera.


Real Science and Science Fiction

So I was listening to Literature Lab, which is one of my favorite podcasts (and if you haven't checked it out before, please do.  It's a marvelous resource for thinking critically about literature.)  Anyway, I was listening to the podcast about Mars and Mars-based fiction, and how it has changed over time.  The Martian fiction expert, Professor Crossley, talks about how Mars goes from being a viable planet with breathable air (Unveiling a Parallel and  The Martian Chronicles) to being an inhospitable wasteland (Mars Crossing and Kim Stanley Robinson's Mars trilogy.)  This shift was informed by scientific expeditions, namely the Mariner and Viking missions, which revealed the true nature of the Martian environment.  Science informing fiction, fact informing art, that seems to be the natural order of things, right?

Well, it gets more complicated than that.  It seems that art has a reciprocal effect on science, or rather, on the people who research, create and design new advances in science.  Consider these ten now-indispensable technologies inspired by science fiction.  Or that the John Carter of Mars series inspired a young Carl Sagan.  Art inspires dreaming and imagination, and it's that kind of outside-the-box thinking that is so critical for moving progress forward.  And that's more crucial than ever given how wacky the universe is proving to be.

Looking For Inspiration in the News

Okay, so I've been working on my newest WIP -- a science fiction novel I'm lovingly calling a "techno thriller." I adore all things technological, and I've decided in this futuristic (yet not dystopian) society, that uber-cool tech should exist.

I'm sure you can see the problem this poses. See, I don't live 60 years in the future. I am a simple elementary school teacher (although I am the technology specialist -- it's a glorified typing teacher, people. Don't get excited). I drive my kids to dance and watch basketball games on the weekends.

I'm not out there inventing the newest scientific gadget or trying to separate time.

But there are people who are.

And so I've started subscribing to some science websites, and reading information on the newest cybernetic lenses and how someone created a time cloak, and bullet-proof doors (who would need those? Well... I did say techno THRILLER). (I realize none of these things may be new to you, but they are to me. And they're helping me think beyond my own experience and knowledge.)

I never would've imagined that I'd like research so much. (I am a self-proclaimed research-hater.) But reading and watching these sorts of scientific advancements has really switched my brain on. I'm more able to think of what might happen in 60 years when I'm aware of what's happening now.

I'm finding inspiration in the news. Where do you find your inspiration?