The Long Conversation: The Students Talk Back to SFF Pros

Welcome to the official blog of Speculative Fiction Studies! 

Here's what that means for you, gentle reader:

The eighty-two students whose writing (or, in one group's case, podcasting) makes up the December 2015 block of postings are the proud and oft-befuddled members of my four Speculative Fiction Studies classes at The Illinois Mathematics and Science Academy. All of them seniors, all of them self-professed lovers of sf/f (or at least sufficiently curious about it to endure a semester of play in the  genres), they spent eighteen weeks reading from H.G. Wells to William Gibson; from H.P. Lovecraft to James Tiptree; Jr., from Asimov to Zelazny and back to Beagle and Tolkien and uncounted points between. They used their knowledge of STEM fields to identify ideas for their own hard or soft sf worlds and write stories set within them.  They learned sf history from the Gernsback Ghetto's earliest days. They read literary theory from Samuel R. Delany and Ursula Le Guin.

Their challenge, as a final assignment for the term and a final tribute to the sff reader culture, was to compose a blog post where they responded to one of four questions posed by five different sff professionals working at various points in the creative chain: an author (Chuck Wendig), a literary agent (Bridget Smith), and an editorial team (Lynne and Michael Damian Thomas from Uncanny, and their managing editor, Michi Trota). The prompt I gave the professionals to help them devise a question of their own was:

"Based on your specific involvement in speculative fiction, what's the thing you'd most like to ask gifted, high school-aged genre readers? What question could they answer that could help you do what you do 'better'?"

Here's what the various professionals playing along gave us. Below, you'll find some biographical information from each, and the question asked of the IMSA Speculative Fiction Studies Students:

Chuck Wendig

 (Bio excerpted from Mr. Wendig’s Amazon.com author page, 11/30/15):

“Chuck Wendig is the New York Times bestselling author of Star Wars: Aftermath, as well as the Miriam Black thrillers, the Atlanta Burns books, and the Heartland YA series, alongside other works across comics, games, film, and more. A finalist for the John W. Campbell Award for Best New Writer and the cowriter of the Emmy-nominated digital narrative Collapsus, he is also known for his popular blog, terribleminds.com, and his books about writing. He lives in Pennsylvania with his family.”

You can find a mostly-complete listing of Mr. Wendig's work here. 

Now here’s the question Chuck asked of the students:

“…[V]ery simply:

What interests [you], and what troubles [you].

Fiction does well when exploring both of these things (sometimes in tandem). Exploring what people find cool or exciting but at the same time confronting fears that dominate.”

           

Bridget Smith

(Bio excerpted from an interview on www.leewind.org, 11/30/15):

“Bridget Smith is an associate agent at Dunham Literary, Inc, where she's worked since June 2011. She represents middle grade, YA, and adult novels, with special interest in fantasy & science fiction, historical fiction, and women’s fiction. Her tastes run to literary and character-driven novels.

Previously, she was an intern at Don Congdon Associates, worked at a secondhand book store in Connecticut, and evaluated short story submissions for Tor.com under Liz Gorinsky and Patrick Nielsen Hayden. She graduated from Brown University in 2010. While there, she studied anthropology and archaeology, worked as a radio DJ, fenced on the varsity team, and helped design an experiment that she later performed in microgravity at NASA. Currently she reads, runs, and watches more television than is probably good for her.”

Now here’s Bridget’s question for the students:

“How much emphasis do you, as young readers, place on the "classic" elements of SFF? What do you find valuable in a classic work, and what doesn't interest you?”

           

Lynne and Michael Damian Thomas

            

Three-time Hugo Award winner Lynne M. Thomas is the Curator of Rare Books and Special Collections at Northern Illinois University in DeKalb, IL, where she is responsible for popular culture special collections that include the literary papers of nearly 70 SF/F authors. 

She is perhaps best known as the co-editor of the Hugo Award-winning Chicks Dig Time Lords (2010) with Tara O’Shea, Whedonistas: A Celebration of the Worlds of Joss Whedon by the Women Who Love Them (2011) with Deborah Stanish, and the Hugo Award-nominated Chicks Dig Comics (2012) with Sigrid Ellis , all published by Mad Norwegian Press.  Along with the Geek Girl Chronicles book series, Lynne is the former Editor-in-Chief (2011-2013) of the Hugo Award-nominated (2012 & 2013) Apex Magazine, an online professional prose and poetry magazine of science fiction, fantasy, horror, and mash-ups of all three.  She moderates the Hugo Award-winning SF Squeecast, a monthly podcast (with Elizabeth Bear, Paul Cornell, Seanan McGuire, Michael Damian Thomas and Catherynne M. Valente) in which a group of SF/F professionals get excited about stuff they like, and contributes to the Verity! podcast (with Erika Ensign, L.M. Myles, Katrina Griffiths, Tansy Rayner Roberts and Deborah Stanish),  where a bunch of smart women talk about Doctor Who.

Lynne lives in DeKalb with her husband Michael (a writer and editor), their daughter Caitlin, and a cat named Marie.  Caitlin has a rare congenital disorder called Aicardi syndrome, and Michael is her full-time caregiver and an advocate for children with disabilities.  

Along with being a two-time Hugo Award nominee as the former Managing Editor of Apex Magazine (2012-2013) Michael Damian Thomas co-edited the Hugo-nominated Queers Dig Time Lords (Mad Norwegian Press, 2013) with Sigrid Ellis and Glitter & Mayhem (Apex Publications, 2013), with John Klima and Lynne M. Thomas. He also has worked as an Associate Editor on numerous books at Mad Norwegian Press, including the Hugo Award-winning Chicks Dig Time Lords (edited by Lynne M. Thomas and Tara O’Shea, 2010) and Hugo Award-nominated Chicks Dig Comics (edited by Lynne M. Thomas and Sigrid Ellis, 2012). Michael is also a contributor to the SF Squeecast podcast and the Down and Safe Blake’s 7podcast.

Michael lives in DeKalb with his wife, Lynne, their daughter, Caitlin, and a cat named Marie. Caitlin has a rare congenital disorder called Aicardi syndrome, and Michael works as her primary caregiver.

Here’s Lynne and Michael's question for the students: 

“What do you love about short science fiction & fantasy? What will keep you reading it once you're out of this class?”

Michi Trota

Michi Trota is a writer, editor, speaker, communications manager and community organizer in Chicago, IL. She is the managing editor of Uncanny: A Magazine of Science Fiction & Fantasy, and is a member of the Chicago Nerd Social Club’s Board of Organizers. She writes about geek culture and fandom, focusing primarily on issues of diversity and representation, on her blog, Geek Melange, and has spoken at venues such as the Chicago Humanities Festival, C2E2, the University of Chicago, WisCon, and DePaul University. Topics guaranteed to get her talking for hours include comics, Doctor Who, and food geekery. In her professional life, she is a managing editor with fifteen years of experience in the publishing industry, currently the Senior Features Editor at Encyclopedia Britannica. In her spare time, she spins fire with the fire+bellydance showcase, Raks Geek, and at the Chicago Full Moon Jams.

Here’s what Michi asked the students:

 “What are the themes and stories that you would like genre stories to address and how well do you think genre fiction in general reflects the interests of readers like yourselves? How relevant to your lives and experiences have the genre stories that you've read - whether for class or on your own - actually been?”

You may notice me commenting on their posts in critical fashion -- that's just part of my job, I'm afraid. I encourage you to comment on their work as you see fit. . . but remember these are students, bright and well-intentioned, and they deserve our best treatment.

Best regards,
Tracy Townsend

Podcast in Response to Chuck Wendig: Starring Rakesh Chatrath, Christoph Eckrich, Camden Ko, and Andy Xu

You can access this four-man podcast conversation responding to Chuck Wendig via the link below:

https://archive.org/details/AndyCamdenChristophRakeshSpecFicPodcast

Andy, Camden, Christoph, and Rakesh will be happy to take your comments in the comment field below, of course.

Vishal Patel: "Dear Michael Damian and Lynne Thomas: Why I Read Speculative Fiction"

 Dear Michael Damian and Lynne Thomas: Why I Read Speculative Fiction

By

Vishal Patel

Our world has certain rules, laws that decide what is and isn’t possible. As a species, we exploit those rules as much as we possibly can. It’s one of the most useful abilities that we have. For me, the reason I have read and will continue to read speculative fiction is as a way to exercise that ability. It is plentiful, with hundreds if not thousands of rule systems in a wide variety. The story and the characters facilitate your learning of the rules and your understanding of a few basic uses of them, giving you a framework for finding additional exploits. It’s entertaining and good training, a perfect combination. The key, then, to enjoying speculative fiction is matching what you read with what you want to learn.

One of the best ways to find the right fiction is by genre. Fantasy tends to create rules that are very different from our world’s. It requires the reader to build his/her understanding of the world nearly from scratch. This is evidenced by the fact that fantasy is considered “higher” the more different the world is from our world. However, fantasy rules tend to be on a human scale. Magic is limited to certain beings or locations or requires specific rituals that would never occur on their own. The powers are simple and powerful, making the exploits relatively simple. However, the completely different world requires the reader to contextualize all of those things in a completely new way.

As you get deeper into fantasy, you also have a lot of rules to deal with. Either there are many specific spells or types of magic or each individual has powers that are entirely unique, sometimes both. Because of that, there are a huge number of different powers and an even larger number of combinations that lead to an unfathomable number possible exploits. As the magic gets more powerful (and it inevitably does), the interactions between the exploits become more complex and difficult to understand. This makes fantasy perfect for learning to learn this skill. The complexity builds in a way that is easy for the reader to keep up with, but still takes the reader very far.

To contrast with this, science fiction expects a lot of the reader if he/she wants to understand its rules. Unlike fantasy, science fiction is about slightly changing or extending the rules of this reality. Instead of low to high, science fiction ranges from hard to soft; science fiction is considered “harder” as it follows reality more closely. The challenge of science fiction is two-fold. First, you have to know enough about the science that is being used. Since science fiction constantly reaches for the very edges of science, this means relativity and quantum mechanics, advance materials and nuclear chemistry, genetic engineering and exobiology. While a normal reader can glance over these things, simply accepting what the book says, when you are reading to understand the rules of the story, you have to learn those rules as well. This makes it more difficult, but it also allows you to carry ideas from each book into others that use the same or similar technologies.

As you go deeper, this extensive knowledge becomes even more critical. Science fiction rule changes tend to be on a much lower level. A small technological change can have consequences across an entire civilization. Similar to fantasy, there are an uncountable number of interactions between different rules. This time, however, those rules are below the scale of humans, making the human scale consequences difficult to trace. Through this difference, science fiction trains you to use you rule-exploiting abilities in a much more realistic way. In fact, this is the same way that you would use when learning real science: looking through all of the potential useful interactions that each new rule has as you learn it.

Of course, there are many other reasons to enjoy science fiction. The characters are unique; the worlds are expansive and interesting, often larger than our own world; and the circumstances and relationships between characters can be completely different than those that we experience. For me, though, imagining how I could live in so many fictional worlds, seeing how just thinking about the rules can get you to incredible results, has been a constant source of enjoyment and personal growth. For that reason, I will always read speculative fiction. 

Vedhik Kodavatiganti: "Dear Chuck Wendig: To Be or Not To Be Interesting"

Dear Chuck Wendig: To Be or Not To Be Interesting

By: Vedhik Kodavatiganti

            Having been exposed to manga at a young age, I’ve developed unique interests in fiction, as well as having been accustomed to aspects that are troubling to some. I guess I should start with my interests in this field. Having read the mainstream magna as they come out, such as One Piece, Naruto or Bleach, I notice that something that entices me in fiction are relatable themes such as friendship or family. All most all manga considered to be mainstream usually explores those kinds of themes, and having been immersed in that kind of culture, I have as well.

            Another aspect of fiction I enjoy is romance. I haven’t read any actual romance novels or such, but I just enjoy when there is romance in fantasy novel or manga I’m reading. The degrees to which romance is incorporated varies widely between the manga and novels I’ve read. It can be as small as a fandom romance from hints in the manga or have the majority of the plot dedicated to their relationship. An example of the first is from Fairy Tail. In this manga, there aren’t many romantic scenes involved; however Hiro Mashima drops hints that allows a fandom for a couple. In Fairy Tail, there are actually two main fandoms, a straight one, Natsu x Lucy, and a gay one Natsu x Gray. There are actually a number more and a wiki pages dedicated to the different fan-made couples as well as in depth explanations as to how it makes sense. If you’re interested or don’t believe me, check out the page; however some of the ones are actual couples (http://fairytailcouples.wikia.com/wiki/Couples). An example where romance is a much larger part of the story is in Legend of Maian. Though it’s unfinished and not as well known, this is one of my favorite manga. The entire plot basically adds to further the relationship with two people who started with a distaste for each other. The way the author works romance and action into the plot is incredibly enticing.

            When reading a story that targets you’re your fears, you’re not necessarily overcoming the fears. You’re just facing them. For example, you wouldn’t want to be placed in a supernatural horror story situation where a ghost is causing people in a class to die one by one from accidents. Reading these stories causes us to confront our fears, which some people, including myself, find thrilling; however, I wouldn’t want to be placed in the situation. These stories serve as a catalyst for us to confront our fears and feel thrill we would not normally find.

            Japan has the stereotype of being kind of weird. Exposing myself to the many forms of unconventional themes in manga numbed me to things that would normally trouble people. An example of this is No Game No Life, a light novel series with an insanely good story, but having a brother-sister relationship theme. People would generally find something like that disturbing, but I’ve become accustomed to those kinds of themes from what I’ve read.

            This isn’t to say that nothing troubles me when reading fiction. When a character makes unethical decisions or just exhibits, for lack of a more appropriate word, inconsiderate behavior. By inconsiderate, I mean the kind of behavior that we saw Jessica display in Neverwhere. Because we were meant to grow a distaste for Jessica, it wasn’t as troubling as it would normally be. I usually find this kind of behavior the most troublesome within relationships. For example, in this one manga I’d been reading the protagonist had gotten dumped by a girl he likes and eventually gets another girlfriend, who was the perfect girlfriend, but dumps her to get back together with his ex-girlfriend. I immediately stopped reading the manga. To avoid spoilers, I left out the name and kept the description as vague as possible, but this wasn’t necessarily of the speculative fiction genre. It just serves as an example of what I would find distasteful from a speculative fiction story. I find villainous characters such as Iago, or any other antagonist fine, despite the deeds they commit. Sometimes I even respect them for their novelty and their cunning personality; however, when a relationship is brought into the equation, I find it too agitating. I guess I’m just a romanticist.

Tyler Shah: "For the Thomases: Why I Keep Coming Back for More"

For the Thomas’: Why I Keep Coming Back for More

By

Tyler Shah

For me, I keep reading science fiction short stories because it keeps changing things up, but has those classic elements that make the stories recognizable.  Throughout this class, I’ve been introduced to many writing styles and stories, and at points it was overwhelming between trying to understand the message the author is sending and trying to keep my mind from overthinking the given world.  That being said, I believe the only thing that is completely different between good science fiction short stories is the given world.  Since the author wrote a short story, it’s in its name to not be long, thus there will not be a lot of explaining of the world.  Then, the biggest change between them is the characters and the overall plot.  Each character in the stories we read was an individual, and had different characteristics from those in the same story, and those in others, but there are several of the same traits in those characters that make them similar such as a hero, a villain, and the helper.  Although, in some cases, the villain is not a being, such as in The Cold Equations where we see the villain as the unforgiving vacuum of space, it is still present since a great story needs an event that changes things up for the characters.  Furthermore, the plot is different overall, but there are some similar traits of each plot—especially for science fiction.  Each story’s plot will be different from the other, or else it would be the same story, and they have different things happening in different times, but there is always one thing that stays constant—an event that changes the characters.  Since science fiction has many sub-genres, there are many different ways this can occur, but, specifically, it happens mostly in the sub-genre of robots.  There are many different stories about robots and there are many different characters, plots, and endings for them all, but there is one thing that is common for many—the robot defies what one, some, or all of the characters want it to do.  The event then sets out plot in stone and we follow this until it ends in our favorite character’s success or demise. 

After going through the amazing rollercoaster that is this class, I am very happy to say that I love science fiction short stories, and I am proud to be a brave geekling!  Science fiction stories have an amazing allure to them that ropes me in and keeps me reading until the end, mostly because it allows an escape from my reality and allows me to be around something that I enjoy—science!  Whether it is soft or hard science fiction, it allows for a different world to appear, and though it may be similar to mine, the difference I feel is immense.  In a world full of negativity and the call for maturity beyond our years, I’m happy to find extreme happiness in my day when I sit down and pull up an interesting story that transports me to that world, something that is needed every once in a while.

Tiger Shi: "To Michael Damian and Lynne Thomas"

Michael Damian and Lynne Thomas

“What do you love about short science fiction & fantasy? What will keep you reading it once you're out of this class?”

My favorite part about reading this kind of genre fiction is that they allow me to escape. To my mind, I believe that reading short science fiction or fantasy stories give me a break from reality. It allows me to travel to a far-fetched land or a distant time that intrigues my mind without reminding it of the day I just experienced. For each piece of work that we read in this class, this has proven to be true. Each unit we begin, I am able to explore new worlds that authors previously unknown to me have created.

In our studies of science fiction, we read a large variety of books each giving a different feel to the genre. When reading the Gibson’s “Johnny Mnemonic,” I was introduced to the dark, grimy, and sometime over the top nature of the subclass of cyberpunk within science fiction. However this form of reading quickly changed when I faced the more emotionally stressful stories, e.g., Anderson’s “Kyrie” and Godwin’s “Cold Equations.” They explored ideas that I would not have expected been possible to be explored through science fiction. Throughout my life, I have always expected the genre to be more action and tech oriented like Forster’s “The Machine Stops.” However, these stories altered my previously constructed ideas about the genre and were able to understand the miniscule but prominent detail that separates hard and soft science fiction.

Following this unit, we explored the parallel genre of fiction. Although we were only able to read one short story that belonged to this genre, it (being Kij Johnson’s “26 Monkeys, Also the Abyss”) along with the two novels that we read were able to give me a new perspective on what fantasy can do. The worlds forged in fantasies can be just as diverse if not more so than those forged in science fiction. Although there does exist fiction like Tolkien’s classic novel The Hobbit that straight up go for exploration and unveiling of a high fantasy world, other stories allow for other aspects to shine through from within the medium of fantasy. In the aforementioned low fantasy short story by Johnson, the author provides a sort of “afterstory” for the may character Aimee after the event that tore her life apart. The story is less action oriented and tries to allow for both the reader AND the main character to complete Tolkien’s three key aspects of stories: Recovery, Escape, and Consolation.

Even after the ending of this class, I will most likely continue reading speculative fiction works. However, I do feel like I will have to start out independently reading short stories or novellas first. Longer novels are still a rather large commitment for me and I may not be able to follow through with them if I am not reading it for a class. From this class, I believe that I was able to learn how to appreciate speculative fiction much more than I would have without having taken this class. I have grown curious as to the absolute variety of worlds that are possible to create in writing these kinds of stories. One of the authors that I was introduced to in this course that I am most excited to experience more thoroughly is HP Lovecraft. His writing is vivid and intense which makes the reading extremely enjoyable for me personally. Overall, I have no regrets taking this course and I will definitely be able to take this genre with me on for the rest of my life.

Tony Lu: "Dear Chuck Wendig: The Greatest Genre of Fiction"

Dear Chuck Wendig: The Greatest Genre of Fiction

by Tony Lu

"Science fiction is not about the future; it uses the future as a narrative convention to present significant distortions of the present," writes Samuel Delany in "Some Presumptuous Approaches to Science Fiction." To me, this aspect of the genre, the blending of the scientific possibilities of the future and the societal aspects of the present, is its greatest. Through sci-fi, we are exposed to technological marvels such as time travel and worm holes, but are confronted with their ethical implications: If we use time travel to correct our mistakes, how will that affect the lives of others? How far will its effects propagate? Sci-fi embodies the best of both what interests me and what troubles me: the science of the future and its potentially radical effects on society.

Pat Cadigan's short story "Pretty Boy Crossover" is a prime example of this kind of sci-fi. While it was described by my classmates as "angsty" and "uneventful," I see it as packed full of deep questions about the effects of technology. Set in a culture where nightclubs are the most popular form of entertainment, teenagers vie for becoming a fabled "Pretty Boy," a digitization of their personalities that apparently enjoys eternal youth. However, this is implied to be a form of corporate exploitation, as "Pretty Boys" are studied for "breakthroughs in thought" and used for advertising. This prompts the protagonist to ponder his opportunity to become one. As he remarks, we would be reduced to a "blip on a chip," wiped from existence as soon as somebody erases the data that constitutes us. Yet, I wonder, wouldn't it still be worth it? To abandon our bodies and never age and become the center of everyone's attention is an opportunity offered to few. Cadigan makes it difficult for us and the protagonist to either accept or reject this opportunity, and trying to answer such questions is something I relish about sci-fi.

Occasionally, rather than asking penetrating questions, sci-fi simply horrifies me with what can arise from science. As a physics buff, the wonders in our universe that technology on Earth cannot possibly expose us to, such as black holes and neutron stars, fascinate me. Poul Anderson's "Kyrie" blends these scientific ideas with a more fictional aspect, telepathy, and presents us with a disturbing implication of this combination. In the story, Eloise, a telepath, is a member of a crew sent to investigate the aftermath of a supernova. However, her companion is sucked into a black hole left by the dying star. By the laws of general relativity, in his reference frame, he dies quickly, but in Eloise's reference frame, she observes him fall into the black hole across an infinite span of time. The result? She is left to hear his dying thoughts for the rest of her life. Sci-fi's ability to turn something that interests me into something that horrifies me is, to me, perhaps the genre's greatest aspect.

Lastly, I sometimes encounter sci-fi's most cutting quality, in which it simply forces us to accept the disturbing aspects of the future. Frederik Pohl's "Day Million" is a short story that acknowledges, and even criticizes, our discomfort with those aspects. After shoving the story's version of the future in our faces, where humans make love digitally with aliens and sexual pleasure is purely a technological affair, Pohl taunts, "Oh, I can see you now, you eaters of charcoal-broiled steak, scratching an incipient bunion with one hand and holding this story with the other, while the stereo plays d'Indyor Monk. You don't believe a word of it, do you?" Just as our current society may appear utterly outrageous to Attila the Hun, so will, as Pohl argues, the society of the future appear to us. He thus shows us another wonderful aspect of sci-fi: that it can give us an outlandish, troubling view of the future rather than a pleasant one.

Despite showing me that the future may not be to my liking, sci-fi, as Pohl implies, may only cause this discomfort because of our own biases: Perhaps we cannot bring ourselves to accept radically different gender norms and societal mores. However, the aspects of the genre I cherish will always be there: the exploration of special relativity and time travel in an ethical rather than scientific context, and the brazen presentation of future societies that defy our expectations. Since these are qualities I will find nowhere else, sci-fi will always hold a special place in my heart.

Lucy Yuan: "Dear Michael Damian and Lynne Thomas: I Like It Because It's Short"

Dear Michael Damian and Lynne Thomas: I Like It Because It’s Short

By Lucy Yuan

Ever since I could pick up a book, I have always had a hankering for stories of beyond the typical realm of reality. My favorite stories were always ones that involved talking animals or uber-intelligent robots or something of that sort. I never worried about being a “serious” reader, because come on, at age twelve, who really cared about being scholarly when you could read about ALIENS?? Even now, six years later, still love science fiction and fantasy. Maybe it’s because I’m not technically a fully-fledged adult, which, according to David Hartwell’s The Golden Age of Science Fiction is Twelve, means that I haven’t been “fully integrated into the tedium of adult life and tend to view everyday life with healthy suspicion.” But that doesn’t matter. I take pride in being “healthily suspicious” because it means that I believe that life is something full of possibilities, beyond just the mundane. I continue to read speculative fiction because I crave stories that will stimulate my imagination, building a greater vision for what our world could truly be.

Truly, the best part of speculative fiction is the fact that it pushes the boundaries of reality. The curious sensation of fearlessness after reading a particularly creative science fiction/fantasy stories is rarely experienced in our typical lives. For example, after reading something like Harry Potter, a world full of witches and wizards seems like it could truly exist. While reading spec fic, even for the briefest moment, I am in a world where the impossible becomes reality, inspiring me to find bits of magic in my daily life.

Yet as I have grown up, I have definitely been reading less speculative fiction than I did when I was twelve. There just simply isn’t enough time! My generation is all about speed. We complain about slow Wi-Fi, digest our news through quick, bite-sized pieces…even our recipes are sped up at high speed in online cooking videos. We always seem to be a million things going on at once, especially at a crazy school like IMSA. Very rarely do I ever find myself with an opportunity to just sit down, relax, and fully read a book cover to cover. Therefore, the best part of short speculative fiction is the fact that it’s short, making it a great way to reach out to my busy and impatient peers.

Short speculative fiction provides a very easily digested dose of “thinking outside the box”/“a world beyond reality”. Especially with the impending doom of college apps coming up, I find myself constantly working, resulting in a monotonous cycle. I don’t have time to read full novels, especially because I can never seem to stop once I start. Often, I must force myself NOT to read novels because once I start, all productivity will cease until the story is over. (I read all of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows in less than 48 hours). Thus, a brief spec fic story serves as a perfect way to briefly get away from my boring, everyday lives and visit a new, exciting world.

The brevity of short spec fic is also the best part for those who aren’t major speculative fiction fans like me. Some say that speculative fiction fandoms have a cult-like following, so people are afraid/don’t have the time to become a fully fledged member. Reading short speculative fiction is like trying out the waters, dating without fully committing. Those first intense moments are what builds up the courage for people to give it a shot in the long haul. I honestly believe speculative fiction is something that we all need every once in a while to leave our mundane lives and be reminded of what humanity could be. I keep on reading it because I crave that escape from reality, however brief it may be.

tl;dr

I read spec fic because it’s exciting. I read short spec fic because it’s short.

Taylor Reyes: "Dear Bridget Smith: What defines "classic" SFF?"

How much emphasis do you, as young readers, place on the "classic" elements of SFF? What do you find valuable in a classic work, and what doesn't interest you?”

           

Dear Bridget Smith: What defines “classic” SFF?

By

Taylor Reyes

Rather than truly delving into this question, I think that it’s important to consider an question brought up by this prompt: What it means to be a piece of “classic” literature? The word in itself isn’t too problematic; in the Oxford Dictionary, classic is defined as “judged over a period of time to be of the highest quality and outstanding of its kind.” This explanation, however, doesn’t hold up well when applied to literature. The exact definition of a classic work is a widely debated topic among literary fans and critics alike of all genres.

For the most part, people accept classic texts as those that are able to withstand the test of time through their intrinsic messages and themes, which remain every bit as relevant throughout the ages. However, many agree that there is no sure-fire formula inherent in works of classical literature. This really seems to beg the question, is there such a thing as “classic” elements of literature at all, let alone of SFF?

The nature of SFF is ever-changing. Sure, you could argue that about almost any genre really, but there’re so many complex aspects of SFF that change much more rapidly than do the characteristics of any other genre. This is because SFF is a genre that consistently builds upon itself; past iterations of this category help new authors to forge new stories.

This is partially a result of the rapid advancement of technology evident in the world around us. Science fiction in particular often deals with some sort of scientific development that is either not real or not possible yet. Let us take a look at Ray Bradbury’s 1950 anthology, The Martian Chronicles, for example. A collection of somewhat-related events about the colonization of Mars, this story is truly one of many stories that resulted from the “Mars Fever” that exploded in the late nineteenth and remained until the late twentieth century. During this time, we did not have the means to disprove the theory that there might be intelligent life on this planet. As time went on and we began to see that life on Mars is highly unlikely, we began to shift away from stories about life on Mars and move towards more plausible applications of technology, or at least ones that haven’t been proven false yet.

Fantasy, although not chiefly based on the workings of technology, also is a constantly varying media. Like science fiction, fantasy builds off of its predecessors in order to appeal to a changing world and, likewise, changing fanbases.  Many modern fantastical stories are compilations of elements from old stories that are presented in a new way. For example, there are great deals of modern fantasy stories that include some sort of supernatural beings, such as werewolves and vampires. Although mainly geared toward romance, such as the Shiver trilogy and the Twilight tetralogy, these stories essentially derive from the same premises but present them in a way that appeals to some people in the modern time.  

As you may have noticed, I have alluded to the idea that SFF builds upon its forerunners quite frequently. This seems to suggest a presence of a so-called “classic” generation of SFF stories. I do not believe, however, that this is the case. Sure, there’re the stories that have had a profound impact on the SFF community, such as J. R. R. Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings and H. G. Wells’s War of the Worlds, among others.  Additionally, there are the initial Martian stories that inspired the stories that inspired the aforementioned The Martian Chronicles. And there are the myths that inspired the supernatural fantasy stories that I brought up as well as other stories, such as The Odyssey, that inspired certain characteristics from other types of fantasy. SFF definitely seems to draw on other SFF, but I do not think that this means that there is a “classic” version of SFF. Because it is so susceptible to change, the stories that it has to derive from are constantly changing as well. Thus it is increasingly difficult to characterize anything of this genre as one of the “classics,” let alone to elicit specific elements of SFF that could be considered to be “classic.”

Tavis Reed: "Dear Michael Damian and Lynne Thomas: World Hopping"

Dear Michael Damian and Lynne Thomas: World Hopping

By

Tavis Reed

            I read to experience new worlds. I like imagining myself in different in ancient temples and far away planets. Like many readers, I want to escape mundane everyday life, and for a moment live somewhere else. I don’t necessarily want a world that is extremely detailed, but rather one is well designed yet vague enough to allow me to envision myself in that world. I like less detailed worlds because I would much rather know about a ton of different realties partially, than to only understand a few realties completely. That is why I love reading short science fiction and fantasy; they give me so many amazing worlds to explore.

            I took Speculative Fiction Studies because I wanted to have an excuse to start reading again. When I was younger I used to spend hours on the couch reading The Magic Treehouse series by Mary Pope Osborne. I would read them from the minute I got home, till when my parents finally forced me to do my homework. I loved the books and I thought that I would never stop reading them, until one day I did. I stopped not because I finished the series, I was only half way through, but simply because I got bored. The adventures became repetitive, tension was loss, and as I became more and more familiar with the rules of the world it ceased to amaze me like it once did. This happened again and again until eventually, I mostly stopped reading. I figured that the class would help me rediscover my passion for reading by exposing me to books that I would never had picked up at the library.

            While I did like the books we read, I actually enjoyed the short stories far more. This actually surprised me as I had avoided short stories in the past, as I thought they would not be long enough to make interesting worlds and characters. However, I soon discovered that this was not the case. In short stories I can get a small taste of a world and then create the rest of the world in my mind, as opposed to being told every exact way in which this world operates.

            What I love about short fiction and fantasy is that there is almost no fluff; the author gets straight to the point. This is great because it allows me to emotionally connect to story without meaningless sections that break my connection. Take for example Tom Godwin’s The Cold Equations. This story has you constantly on edge hoping against all odds that there is some way for Marilyn to survive. When she is ejected from the spaceship, for the greater good of course, you can’t help but feel genuinely sad for this girl that you just met a few minutes ago. Though we know hardly anything about her past, we understand that she had one and thus we are free to imagine one. We can use the small amount of details we’re given to construct a past that we can personally relate to.

            Sometimes, if I read a book too slowly, I can forget what it was actually about. That’s not the case for short stories, especially not for one like Pretty Boy Crossover by Pat Cadigan. In the story society has become obsessed with being youthful, partying, and having no responsible. In this society once someone is 18 they almost always choose to be digitize, so that they can remain free from illness, death, and stay forever young. The story explores one’s humanity and it does so in a very interesting way. It follows Pretty Boy who is trying to decide whether or not he wants to become digitized. The entire time I was reading this I was completely engrossed in the story. When I finished the story I kept thinking about it for the rest of the day. I dreamt about how other aspects of society might be. Who runs the nation? Is everything just a plot to make the people sheep? Pretty Boy Crossover filled me with questions and I kept thinking about the story and its implications for a long time. Short fiction stays in my mind and it helps me look at the world in a more colorful way.

Susriya Gangireddy: "Dear Lynne and Michael Damian Thomas: But I Don't Want to Grow Up"

But I Don’t Want to Grow Up

By

Susriya Gangireddy

My most difficult task of the day is finding my glasses, my most dreadful journey is the six minute trek from my room to my classes, and my happiest moment is finding that a test is postponed.

I’ve fallen into a commonplace schedule – the same mundane days of which I was terrified as a child as it would officially render me boring and an adult. As much as I want to stay a child forever, I can’t deny that I’ve been maturing. But growing up means responsibilities and reality and routine. Peter Pan has been my idol since I was little; I still like to believe that Neverland exists somewhere out there. With him, he carried a hope of staying young and carefree forever. A hope of forgetting our problems.  A hope of going on incredible adventures instead.

            I find this hope in science fiction and fantasy books. They are doorways to different worlds and different times. Reading allows me to escape the stress of every day and become immersed in a life that is not my own. After waiting, quite unsuccessfully, for my Hogwarts letter or any sign that I’m actually a demigod, I’ve realized that my Call to Adventure comes through books, by tagging along on the journeys of various characters.

David Hartwell’s claims that young teenagers obsess over science fiction are, from my experience, fairly true. I don’t want to lose the passion I had for books when I was at the golden age of twelve. But recently, my creativity is dwindling, and that scary thought is enough incentive for me to continue reading what I love most. However, I have an inconvenient need to finish a book once I’ve started it, occasionally meaning I spend an entire day just reading. I envy those who can allot certain chapters to read over the course of a couple of days. Short stories are different. Even during school days, it’s not difficult to read a short story for half an hour while still managing my time well.

I’ve learned that change isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Yes, sometimes this change means crazy plot twists like in Bester’s “Fondly Fahrenheit” where it’s not technology that’s the villain. Sometimes, this means I’m too emotionally attached to characters that I lose sleep when something drastically unfortunate happens to them, like poor Nahum in Lovecraft’s “The Colour out of Space”. Sometimes, it means a death or even the fall of an entire civilization as in Godwin’s “The Cold Equation” or Forster’s The Machine Stops.

But these unpredictable plots, the different types of characters rather than the stereotypical protagonist, and the overall rejection of the status quo without the cheesy happily ever after endings are exactly what I love about short science fiction and fantasy. The stories do so much in so few words. And in that way, I think that short stories are much more difficult to write than novels, but it also makes them that much better.

What I’ve read in this class has helped me open my mind to reading different types of literature rather than my usual select favorites. Miller’s A Canticle for Leibowitz and Walton’s Among Others, for example. Before this class, I stayed far away from difficult language in books, such as in Canticle. Yet, the book was very successful in capturing and maintaining my interest from the very beginning through the comedic endeavors of Brother Francis and the intriguing lifestyle among monks. I also used to think that books written through diary entries were terribly cliché and lacking in depth, so I was initially disappointed when our class decided to read Among Others. But I was quickly proven wrong in thinking that it would be shallow. Morwenna is an intricate, complex character who easily stood out from the majority of protagonists I’ve gotten to know through diary entries, and she had a fresh sense of reality with her.  

Sci-fi and fantasy books give me a consolation that nothing else could. They reassure me that there is more than just integrals and thermochemistry out there. They reassure me that there’s more to life than it seems. And most importantly, they reassure me that everyone has a purpose. I once read a Humans of New York post, “I can’t seem to be a pessimist long enough to overlook the possibility of things being overwhelmingly good,” and I believe I now have a more positive mindset about my disappointingly non-magical life by trying to see every day as an adventure.

Shivani Senguttuvan: "Dear Mr. Chuck Wendig: A Bittersweet Read"

Dear Mr. Chuck Wendig: A Bittersweet Read

By

 Shivani Senguttuvan

The juxtaposition between the confusion and excitement entailed by a fantasy piece drives my motivation to read further. Fantasy pieces place the reader in an abstract world, involving plots and characters that evoke skepticism. This aspect often times bothers me because I give importance to understanding laws and rules of the world presented in the piece. By not being expected to ask questions and fully understand this world, I find it difficult to immerse myself in the piece. In an example, we read a short story named “26 Monkeys, Also The Abyss” by Kij Johnson. In summary, this story revealed the mystery of the disappearance of twenty-six show monkeys. Specifically, the logic behind their disappearance and reappearance evokes skepticism from the reader, but they have minimal information about the monkeys’ background as well as the explanation to this miracle. I do believe that one of the main themes in this story is that life is unpredictable, and lacking some proper explanations. The story outlines this claim: “They [monkeys] have created wonders for you and performed mysteries. But there is a final mystery they offer you – the strangest, the greatest of all.” However, similar to Aimee (the main character), there is not a way to seize the mystery because of its absurdity in nature. This is unsettling to me because, as stated before, having inconsistences in comprehension hinders my ability to connect with the story. 

On the other hand, fiction stories have the ability to uncover a world that is unimaginable and difficult to create; the story creates different laws and rules that has to be embedded in the plot in a meaningful way.  I appreciate this aspect of fiction stories because it allows the reader to step out of “the given world.” The ability to learn about other lives and situations while subconsciously relating it back to our own lives is a beauty in itself.  In an example, our class read the short story, “Still Life” (A Sexagesimal Fairy Tale) by Ian Tregillis. This piece experimented with the idea of endless time, as time does not have pity on the residents. When traveling through this story, I kept imagining the contrast between “the given world” and the “endless now” world presented in this story. When analyzing this difference, I began to appreciate the beauty of time and the way it can be manipulated to present a unique world. Specifically, the way Tregillis described the main character illustrated this aspect: “Tink was the object of time’s affection. It attended her so closely, revered and adored her so completely, that it couldn’t bear to part from her, even for an instant.” This excerpt makes time seem more tangible, and this theme plays a major role in the character architype of Tink; the specific themes presented by fantasy pieces continue to draw me in. Moreover, the norms and laws of this world (for example, time is neither compassionate nor pitiful to others) influence the actions and outlooks of the characters as well. For example, the main character, Tink (a clockmaker), cannot age, and the years are measured by the ticking of her heart. This aspect puts me in awe, and often times I regret the disability of living in a fictional world!

The abstract plot sequence and characterizations evoke both fear and interest. The disability to use logic when reading the fictional pieces bothers me because I find the comprehension of character development and reason to be important. In the end, I still become awestruck by the fantasy stories because of its peculiar approach in both plot and characters; it is a bittersweet experience!  

“Still Life” Hyperlink: http://www.apex-magazine.com/still-life-a-sexagesimal-fairy-tale/