Dystopian fiction proposes a number of futuristic scenarios that are grim and gripping by turns. As an follower of coming trends, I am fascinated by the logical extrapolations that these authors make. What would happen if Google glasses were changed to a chip that was implanted inside someone’s head? What if virtual reality games were sold as vacations? These and myriad other examples of technology gone wild place the reader in a context that is unfamiliar only to a degree.
In terms of story structure, I regard these hypothetical devices as background material, akin to research. That may seem like quite a downgrade in status, considering all of the imagination that goes into devising and then integrating the speculative technology into the lives of the book’s inhabitants. Yet consider the issue from this point of view. No matter how dynamic a futuristic tech device is, the reader will not become actively engaged unless a character uses it.
That is why an author needs to be careful about how much tech they front-load in a novel. A reader opens the story looking for a story line, above all. You can throw out as many jaw-dropping concoctions as you like, but if your main character does not have a crisis to confront, I might as well be reading a tech e-zine. After a certain time your reader, realizing that the novel is filled with furniture but no soul, will give up.
The word vicarious is useful in this case. Yes, as a reader I do want to go on a virtual journey. I want to participate vicariously. But unless I identify with a character, realizing that their struggles are not so different from my own, taking the trip is an intellectual exercise devoid of emotion.
The dystopian author’s problem is the same faced by writers of historical fiction. A reader does want to inhabit the time period of long ago, but if all I’m getting is material like how a crinoline skirt was filled out, I’m going to quit. I could read that in a history book. You need characters first, top of the list. Get us engaged with them, and then bring on all those terrific ideas.
Exercise: Read through the first 50 pages of the manuscript. That’s when the sale of a book is made. How much of the material is devoted to explanations of devices? Is anyone in danger because someone is using them? Does the reader understand, from the main character’s point of view, why you started the book where you did?
“Dreams have only one owner at a time. That’s why dreamers are lonely.”
― William Faulkner
Copyright @ 2024, John Paine
Building a Book is written for authors who seek practical editing suggestions on a wide range of subjects related to writing. This advice is not fancy. Early in my career I was a stage carpenter, and in many ways I continue to use that commonsense approach with words. No advice applies in all cases, but these guidelines have proved helpful to the 350+ published authors I have edited.
11.04.2024
Too Much Speculation
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment